


50 Notes To Say I’m Sorry

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Conventions, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: Theirs was not the most thrilling saga, but to Jun, Aiba was the “guy that got away.” And then the “guy that got away again.” And then ”the guy that got away again…again.” But perhaps this time will be different…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set at a convention center in Osaka that is not exactly INTEX Osaka, but is somewhat inspired by its general location. And many thanks to the websites of the various boring industry conventions I visited while writing this story, especially the ones where I borrowed/paraphrased some of their *riveting* descriptions.

They were stuck at the far end of the expo hall, as far from the exits as possible because Jun assumed that was standard operating procedure for government booths. Government participants were only charged half the standard exhibit rate for a booth, so the organizers liked to retaliate by keeping them far away from most of the convention traffic.

Not that Jun minded much. Matsumoto Jun relished any opportunity to get out of town, away from the sad state of their offices in Tokyo. Their floor was being repainted this weekend, from the current shade of beige to another shade of beige. The Japanese government had likely purchased said beige in bulk because painting offices green or blue or anything but beige might give employees the impression that their work was supposed to be rewarding or enjoyable in some way.

Jun had been working for the Japan Transport Safety Board for two years now, having transferred from an even less interesting administrative position in the offices of the Government Pension Investment Fund. He didn’t get to do anything exciting like go to the scenes of train or ferry accidents to investigate what had gone wrong. Instead he sat at his desk every day entering statistics and working on promotional materials.

It was the promotional materials that had brought him to Osaka for an extended weekend. He’d been pretty sure that nothing was more uninteresting than a government office job, but the attendees of the 2016 Trucking, Logistics, and Supply Chain Forum in their unfashionable, poorly-fitted suits gave him cause for reflection. The JTSB booth was stuck at the far end of the hall next to a booth for a company Jun had never heard of, but the pens they were giving away said that they were “dedicated to driving supply chain resilience and value,” whatever that meant. That had to be worse, right?

There were no conference sessions or seminars tonight, Friday night, but the expo floor was opening in an hour, and the three of them would be running the booth tonight and would rotate booth shifts on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday for the remainder of the convention. Jun didn’t really think it was necessary for three people to run the stupid booth, but Sho had assumed that getting them away from the paint fumes for a few workdays had been their supervisor’s one and only kindness offered since thanks to budget cuts, nobody in their department was getting a raise this year.

Speaking of Sho, his colleague of two years, the man was still standing in front of the booth with his arms crossed, lower lip jutting out, frowning at the state of it. For some reason, he thought there was something “odd” with their booth, but he had yet to identify what was odd about it. Which had led to him standing like that for the last six and a half minutes. 

Unlike Jun, Sakurai Sho had been destined for a bureaucrat’s life from birth. Sho was a very nice guy, always smart, always professional. Developing and writing brochures and pamphlets about safety regulations contented him quite easily. But Jun had a feeling that Sho would be transferring up to something more challenging sooner or later. He and his wife had a baby on the way now, and Papa Sho would need more money coming in to cover the cost of a growing family.

Jun and the other member of their team, Kanjiya Shihori, were both too single and too overworked to have time to punch up their CVs and find somewhere else to apply. Maybe they’d be more motivated if and when Sho left. Shihori was standing beside Sho, petite and charming and the self-designated “eye candy” of their JTSB booth. She was the graphic designer on their team, taking Sho and Jun’s pages and pages of boring stats and even more boring text and turning them into sensible publications.

She tapped one of the neighboring booth’s pens against her chin, staring up at Sho. “Sho-san,” she said in her usual teasing tone. “Everything is spelled correctly. The logo is centered perfectly on the banner. Jun-san has the pamphlets spread out very attractively. What are you looking for?”

Sho’s frown only deepened. “We don’t have any pens.”

Shihori nodded, tapping the pen she’d snatched against her chin again. “We don’t.”

Sho flailed his arms, his convention attendee lanyard swaying to and fro. Jun continued to sit back in his chair behind their table, bored out of his skull, trying not to grin at Sho’s distress. “This is our only in-person outreach event for the quarter, and we just look sad! Why don’t we have any pens?”

“Because customized pens cost money,” Shihori pointed out.

“All we have are the ‘Stay Alert, Stay Alive’ pamphlets,” Sho complained. “We’re as far from civilization as we can get. We have the worst location. The least amount of projected foot traffic. And we have no freebies.”

“That shipping conglomerate from Fukuoka had mouse pads,” Jun said, offering Sho a wink. “Mouse pads, Sho-san.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how they can send us all the way to Osaka without any freebies.”

“Technically ‘Stay Alert, Stay Alive’ is the freebie,” Jun reminded him.

“And besides,” Shihori continued, “we’re the government. Since when do we give anything away for free?”

Sho moved forward, adjusting some of the pamphlets Jun had arranged with care, if only because it had killed some time. He couldn’t really wander off until the expo hall officially opened for the night. That was when they were supposed to be serving the welcome appetizers, and Jun’s stomach was rumbling in desperation already. They only received 2500 yen daily for meals during the convention, the rest coming from their own pockets. Those free appetizers were going to save his wallet tonight.

Sho stepped back, still looking annoyed by the sad state of their convention presence. “Human beings have one vital thing in common. Human beings thrive on free shit.”

“True,” Shihori said. Jun offered her a sly smile, knowing her convention attendee canvas bag had at least 20 free pens in it already even though the expo hadn’t started yet. His own bag had six pens and a fuzzy wristband from some delivery service even though he wasn’t a wristband kind of guy.

“Shihori-chan and I could go booth to booth, steal pens and other convention swag and pretend they’re our freebies,” Jun joked. 

“No stealing,” Sho chided them. “We’re government representatives!”

“I think Yamato Trucking and Shipping was giving out candy with their service catalogs. They didn’t put company logos on them,” Shihori said. “Nobody would be the wiser!”

“I could leave the convention center and go down to Dotonbori or a subway stop, see if they’ve got any cute girls handing out tissues,” Jun added.

Sho rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy candy tomorrow so we don’t look so pathetic the entire expo.”

Jun didn’t care one way or another, so he simply nodded in agreement. He was away from home with time off work. The convention booth was simply a few hours’ obligation each day, and the rest of the time he’d use to wander off, take in the sights, relax.

Maybe even find someone for a night, if only because he kept striking out in Tokyo, and he was getting really lonely. Working long hours and coming home to his empty apartment, his solitary bonsai on his balcony being the only one that needed him. 

A change of scenery could do him good, and he was in the perfect place to hunt around.

The International Expo Center Osaka was home to four different conventions that weekend, including the one Jun was currently attending. The hotel they were staying at was connected to the Expo Center and another convention was going on there. He’d be surrounded by people away from home for a few days, none of them looking for more than a little fun. Much as Jun longed for something a bit more permanent, he’d take a one night stand over the nothing he was currently experiencing back home.

Almost all of Jun’s friends at home were straight - nobody ever seemed to know any eligible men looking for a guy like Jun. And even worse, most of his friends were starting to settle down. His twenties, his carefree partying days, were behind him, and he was already three years into his thirties. 

His friends wanted to have home parties now because they had kids to put to bed early. He’d played wing man for several of his friends the last few years. He could count three different married couples he’d personally helped get together. But now that it was seemingly Jun’s turn, his own support system had to get home to read bedtime stories instead. They couldn’t stay out late with him anymore. He was on his own to find “the one.” Sho had even tried to help him once, but his well-meaning recommendation had been one of his university professors, a guy who’d been old enough to be Jun’s father.

He’d always thought he was a good catch. He had a steady job, even if it was far from his first choice of career. He made decent money, enough to put some in savings for the future and enough to occasionally splurge on nice clothes. He took good care of himself, eating healthy, exercising regularly, staying well-groomed. He’d saved up money and fixed his crooked teeth once he had his government salary. He had a bit of a “strong” face, but he didn’t think he was ugly.

And still he kept striking out. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship.” “I don’t want my family and friends to know I’m gay.” “You’re too stoic.” “You’re too passionate.” “You’re too particular.” “I just don’t think this is going to work.”

Things had been especially dire lately, and his confidence was starting to waver. He’d already settled for a professional life that was dull but steady. He couldn’t afford to settle in his personal life too. Or even worse, to give up.

“Matsumoto-kun, what do you think?”

He blinked, realizing that he’d fallen into a stupid spiral of self-pity. Sho was looking at him expectantly, and Jun realized that he hadn’t been paying attention. He was still on the clock right now.

“Sorry, what?”

Sho was always so patient with him, whether he was editing work reports or getting lost in his thoughts. Sho was going to be a good dad. “I asked what type of candy I should buy. You know, to lure people in?”

“Chocolate. Something with chocolate.”

Shihori and Sho then went on to debate the various merits of different chocolate candies as well as the merits of using taxpayer money to buy candy to bribe conference-goers to take their safety pamphlets.

Jun just focused on counting down the seconds, putting him closer to free appetizer time. And closer to his pending efforts to get laid and prove he was more than just a government shill in a suit.

—

Keep On Trucking: Driver Retention Strategies  
Saturday, 2:00 PM  
Primrose Room B  
Speaker: Takahashi Yosuke, COO Supply Chain Solutions, Kao Corporation

Driver shortages have been identified as one of the key problems facing the industry at large in the years to come. This session focuses on best practices for the recruitment and retention of drivers, highlighting everything you need to know in an ever-evolving world. From crafting the perfect job advert to developing competitive employee compensation packages, join Takahashi-san and learn how to keep your truckers happy.

—

The Byatt Regency was connected to the convention center by an insulated glass walkway that went up and over the street. With the numerous conventions in the convention center itself as well as the hotels that connected to it, there had to be a few thousand people spread throughout the cluster of buildings this weekend.

Heading back through the walkway, he passed dozens of people with convention badges hung around their necks and worn with a sense of real purpose and pride. Some were here for a fishing expo, others were in town for a dental convention. There were people for the logistics convention wearing the same blue-bordered badge Jun had around his neck. There were fruit farmers from Shikoku who seemed a bit lost in the fast-paced convention area. Nerdy types here for the electronics show.

He and Sho were meeting up for a free breakfast in the morning, coinciding with the opening session of the convention. Sho had stuffed himself with appetizer shrimp and departed for his room so he could FaceTime with his wife before getting some sleep. Shihori was meeting up for dinner and drinks with a college friend who lived halfway between Osaka and Kobe.

With the morning breakfast, he decided against heading out for the Osaka nightlife on his own. He instead chose to play it safe, taking off his lanyard and shoving it in the pocket of his slacks, loosening his tie as he headed for his hotel’s bar. He was full but not unpleasantly so from the various snacks in the expo hall, and a few drinks would help loosen him up.

The bar was fairly large, as the Byatt hosted conventions and convention guests year-round. But there was still a calm coziness to it, the lights dimmed and the dark walls lending it a sensual air. Jun supposed that the hotel’s interior design team knew exactly the type of clientele to cater to, the sort of people who lived by the motto of “what happens at the convention stays at the convention.”

Most of the booths and tables were occupied with groups of all sorts, most of whom kept their convention badges on. “Matsumoto Jun, Japan Transport Safety Board” wasn’t the greatest conversation starter. He didn’t really like starting off with the various stats he knew about commercial airline disasters or train derailments, so he chose to remain a mystery until specifically asked.

He had a seat at the far end of the bar, which afforded him a decent view of the left side of the room in case he felt like being brave and seeing if any of his good pick-up lines still worked. With a glass of whiskey to sip, he tried to be stealthy, sneaking peeks all around him. The bartender was well-trained to offer no judgment, merely offering Jun a second drink as soon as his first was done.

Tables erupted into laughter while others were deep into impressing each other, exchanging business cards and forging connections. The two women occupying the seats next to Jun eventually left, gossiping about some mutual friend of theirs who was hoping to hook up with one of the dentists wandering around.

Everywhere he peeked, no luck. Lots of wedding rings. And those without them were doing their best to impress the women they were sitting with. Jun would have to sit at the bar longer than he planned - perhaps his own prospects wouldn’t come around until most of the straight folks were already tipsy, wouldn’t be as inclined to stare. 

He took out his phone to play games while he waited, grinning at the sight of fourteen LINE messages from Sho, every single one about the candy he planned to buy to stock the booth. It was a typical set of Sho messages, him rambling along and eventually coming to his own conclusion without requiring Jun to say anything but “sounds good” at the end. He did just that, sending a cute sticker expressing his approval. Sho replied in seconds with a “see you in the morning.”

He was just about to tap on a game when he heard an oddly familiar voice.

“Matsujun!”

He stiffened in surprise, nearly dropping his phone on the bar counter. The last time he’d heard that voice...

“Hey Matsujun, it _is_ you!”

He swiveled a little in his seat just as another man slid into the empty one beside him. To Jun’s utter dismay, he was just as gorgeous as he’d always been. Tall and lean, friendly eyes, and that even friendlier smile. Tactile as always, too, Jun realized when the man reached out, patting him on the back and laughing.

“I’d recognize those eyebrows of yours anywhere,” Aiba Masaki teased, his rough voice warm and open.

Jun’s heart sank, but he held up his glass as though he was perfectly fine, returning Aiba’s smile. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Aiba was in a well-fitted gray suit that made his lanky limbs appear even longer. The guy had legs for days. He lifted his convention badge, the paper inside the plastic identifying him as “Aiba Masaki, Zic Camera, Tokyo.”

“I’m here for the Smart Home show,” Aiba explained before waving the bartender over and asking for one of the beers on tap. The HomeSmarts Show and Expo was the electronics convention. It was the biggest event currently ongoing at the convention center, and Jun kind of envied the people who got to wander around playing with gadgets all day.

“Nice,” Jun said.

“Right? Here’s me,” Aiba answered, digging around inside his suit jacket and unearthing a small stack of business cards. He held one out obliviously, and Jun took it, trying not to grimace as he did so. He immediately knew it was the exact same card Aiba had always had, identifying him as a buyer for Zic, an electronics retailer.

Jun weakly offered up a card of his own, trying not to frown as Aiba pocketed it without reading it, instead turning to smile at the bartender when his pint glass was set down on a Byatt Regency coaster before him. Jun watched Aiba’s Adam’s apple bob in his perfect, tanned throat as he gulped down a first ample sip.

He set his glass down with a satisfied smack of his lips before leaning over to squeeze Jun’s shoulder. Aiba had always been so touchy-feely. “Gosh, it’s so good to see you. It’s been ages!”

“Since the 10-year reunion,” Jun said pointedly, not the least bit surprised when Aiba showed no real sign of recognition.

“Ah, ah, right. With Nino,” Aiba said, nodding and finally letting go of him.

“Right. With Nino,” Jun mumbled.

—

S.O.S. - Save Our Soil  
Saturday, 10:00 AM  
Oak Room III  
Speaker: Professor Amemiya Daiki, Faculty of Agriculture, Hokkaido University

This special session is sponsored by the Nippon Soil Health Conglomerate. Amemiya-sensei will cover the latest strategies in soil management, exploring what you need to know to ensure the health of your crops for years to come. Learn about solutions specific to the Shikoku region, backed by data from a five-year study of sudachi farms in Tokushima Prefecture.

—

Theirs was not the most thrilling saga, but to Jun, Aiba was the “guy that got away.” And then the “guy that got away again.” 

And then ”the guy that got away again…again.”

Aiba Masaki had always been…well, airheaded was kind of a rude way to put it. He was just the sort of guy who was kind and handsome and perfect 24/7/365, but he sometimes suffered from the double whammy of selective memory loss and vanishing common sense. But fuck, he was so _pretty_.

Jun and Aiba had gone to the same high school. Aiba had been a year ahead, the admired captain of the basketball team and the recipient of the most Valentine’s chocolates in school history. Jun, almost half a foot shorter at the time and plagued with pimples, had attended every home game just to watch him play, even though he was thoroughly uninterested in basketball. It had been enough to listen to Aiba’s sneakers squeak across the court, to sneak a peek at the strangely alluring, dark birthmark on his shoulder that was only visible when he was wearing the team jersey.

Aiba had been best friends with Ninomiya Kazunari, a shy boy in Jun’s homeroom who tallied all the stats for the basketball team. They’d grown up together, and Aiba’s loyalty to Nino had never wavered even though they seemed to have very little in common, the shining jock and the math geek. No matter how popular Aiba became, he and Nino were inseparable. 

When Aiba had found out that some other students were bullying Nino, he’d knocked out one of the bullies’ two front teeth and had happily accepted a week-long suspension in punishment. In spite of that (or in most cases, because of it) Aiba’s locker overflowed with love letters from his many admirers. Half loved him for his athleticism and shining smile, the other half loved him for his kind and devoted heart. Jun, it went without saying, had fallen for all of him.

It was the sharp-eyed Ninomiya who’d figured out why Jun was such a diligent basketball game attendee. “I can pass him a letter if you want,” Nino had offered in class one day just before the bell. “I get asked all the time.”

Jun had gone pale at the generous offer, managing only to nod at Ninomiya, who never spoke to non-Aiba people unless he really had to. That had to mean something! He spent weeks gathering his courage, seeing girl after girl sighing and complaining that Aiba was still single. That was what gave Jun the extra push he needed, convincing himself that Aiba was probably gay - just like him!

When he finally had a confession letter composed, the product of several sleepless nights and several inspiring masturbatory incidents, he’d caught Nino before class. “Um, does your offer still stand?”

Nino had looked at him and sighed. “Too late, sorry.”

The shock and surprise that swept the school that morning troubled Jun for years. When he’d lie in bed at night and wonder “what if I’d moved faster…” Because if he’d moved faster, maybe he wouldn’t have given up on attending that art university. Maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in a long series of boring government jobs.

Captain of the basketball team Aiba Masaki, a week away from graduating, was apparently dating a college guy, someone he’d met when playing basketball at the local community center near his house. And the worst part?

The guy’s name had been Matsu _yama_ Jun.

Of all the bad luck…

So Aiba graduated in a blur of scandal and awe. Years passed. And then Jun found himself attending his five-year high school reunion. It was Ninomiya again who’d tried to help him. Before Jun had gone into the bar, Nino had been outside smoking. Apparently Aiba was attending in order to catch up with a kohai or two from the basketball team - he’d forced the indifferent Nino to go to the reunion just so he could party crash.

“Still got that letter?” Nino had asked him, raising an eyebrow and taking a drag of his cigarette.

It was Nino who arranged everything, managing to get Jun into a booth with him and Aiba. By then, Nino and Aiba were both working together at Zic Camera, inseparable even in their chosen careers. Aiba had handed over his business card proudly. Nino had made excuses to leave, anti-social as he’d ever been, and Jun had another chance. After talking and drinking together for three hours, Jun had been on the verge of success. Touchy-feely Aiba’s hand had been on and off of his thigh half the night.

Entering his twenties (and sinking money into intense dermatologist appointments) had emboldened Jun, giving him confidence and a reputation among friends as a bit of a playboy. He’d written the name of a nearby love hotel on a bar napkin, had tried to be coy and slipped it across the table. Aiba had instead said “oh, thanks!” and had proceeded to set his beer down on top of it, smearing the ink entirely.

Undeterred, Jun had grabbed another napkin, scribbled again. This time, he slipped it directly into Aiba’s hand. Aiba was in the middle of ordering a round of shots for his adoring masses, but as soon as the shots were down all his admirers’ gullets, he finally took a look at it. The expression on his face had been priceless.

“You got it, Matsujun!”

In hindsight, it would have been more logical to give Aiba his phone number, not just the name of a gay-friendly but still sleazy hotel and the room number he was planning to pick. But Aiba had seemed so interested in getting out of that bar for casual sex with him that logic had not kicked in.

And so Jun had said his goodbyes first, letting Aiba wrap up his various social calls with his fans. Jun had walked over to the hotel, gone to the simply-appointed room he’d written down, and prudently purchased some apple-scented lubricant from the vending machine to go along with the complimentary apple-scented condoms that had been tastefully arranged in a heart shape on the bedspread.

Three hours later, Jun realized Aiba wasn’t coming. And that the phone number on Aiba’s business card was wrong.

Without Aiba’s contact details (or Nino’s) and too prideful and unwilling to fall back into his stalkerish high school habits, Jun remained in the dark for the next five long years. Relationships came, relationships went, and still Jun always wondered.

Aiba pulled the same party crasher trick for the 10-year reunion. Because everyone had been out of high school for a full decade this time and because many classmates wanted to give off the impression that they were well on the road to upper middle class prosperity, the event was hosted at a mildly swanky hotel. Fate decreed that Ninomiya Kazunari would be outside smoking once again, but this time on purpose.

Nino called out to Jun before he went in, seeming rather sympathetic to his cause. He waited with a perfect poker face while Jun explained his side of the five year old story. Nino then filled in the blanks. The ever-forgetful Aiba had wiped up a spill with Jun’s napkin only minutes after he’d left, realizing all too late what he’d done.

But Aiba, kind and sweet and puppy-dumb as he’d always been, had felt super guilty. He’d called Nino to come all the way back to the bar that night, and they’d put the limp napkin under the blow dryer in the men’s room to try and read Jun’s handwriting. It was no use - they’d been able to decipher the room number, but not the name of the actual hotel.

This time there was no excuse, Nino had decided, handing over a room keycard that he’d paid for himself. “Go get him, tiger,” was the encouraging cheer Nino offered.

Jun endured a very lengthy evening with people he barely knew. At 28, Jun was far from interested in settling down, but that wasn’t the case with many of his former classmates. Several people were married, some had kids and all around were clusters of people gabbing about said kids without filtering it for the benefit of the non-parent crowd. My little so-and-so is a potty training work in progress - you won’t believe how much shit comes out of such a small butt! My little so-and-so was very sick this week, he just came into our bedroom and vomited right on the floor! 

Jun didn’t dislike children, but everywhere he turned there was a story about a little one expelling something from one end of him or another, and he wanted to scream. It took Jun over an hour of useless mingling before realizing that Aiba wasn’t actually in the banquet room. He found him already upstairs in the room Nino had reserved, under the covers and snoring despite the NBA game blaring out of the TV.

Jun had approached the bed warily, gut churning from all the parent stories and from the realization that for the first time in his life he was in the same room alone with Aiba Masaki. 

“Oh Matsujun! I worked until midnight last night, huge project at work! Guess I was really tired...” was the explanation Aiba provided when Jun poked him awake. 

He said nothing about the embarrassing events at the last reunion, and Jun didn’t want to ruin the mood by reminding him. Aiba had then gotten out of bed in order to present Jun with his business card, reintroducing himself needlessly. And before they could really start with the small talk, Aiba had kissed him. Aiba had kissed him like it was the end of the world. Jun, over the moon in happiness, didn’t really mind. 

And Jun, over the moon in happiness, didn’t check if Aiba had corrected the phone number on his business card.

While Aiba showered, Jun wrote his own phone number down on multiple pieces of paper from the little notepad in the room. He shoved a piece of paper in each of the pockets of Aiba’s jacket as well as the jeans he’d discarded halfway between the bed and the bathroom.

“Call me anytime. XO Jun,” was what he wrote on the notes along with a smily face.

Aiba’s body hadn’t been the same one Jun had admired in high school - he was still slim, but he’d become a solid and steady adult, his muscles clearly trained from regular workouts. And as Jun had long suspected from watching Aiba run around in his basketball shorts with laser focus, he was definitely packing.

In the heat of the moment, Jun thought the sex had been amazing. Aiba was as scatterbrained when it came to fucking as a person could be, but again, in the moment, it had been great. They’d started in the bathroom. Then they’d moved back to the room, Jun first getting fucked against the desk before finally settling in a chair by the window, Aiba sucking Jun’s neck, letting Jun ride him until they both came.

A bit exhausted from the vigorous activity, they’d both fallen into bed. Jun woke around 5:00 in the morning, neck covered in purple hickeys, only to discover that Aiba had already left. And that Aiba had left wearing Jun’s own jeans. An all-too-Aiba mistake. Jun was left with Aiba’s too-tight jeans he could barely zip, the pockets stuffed pathetically with his phone number. 

Well, Jun had consoled himself, at least Aiba had taken the right jacket.

But then Aiba never called. And the phone number on the business card was still wrong. Sure there was social media, but despite working in a techie-type field, Aiba seemed to be absent from every network Jun checked. 

All Jun had to prove it had even happened was the pair of jeans shoved in the back of his closet. Again, he thought the sex had been amazing. Perhaps Aiba hadn’t thought so. Perhaps Aiba…gentle, sweet, forgetful Aiba Masaki…had thought it was best to say nothing rather than tell him it had been a lousy experience. Maybe Jun had been too loud. Too quiet. Too needy. Or just a disappointing lay all around. 

Or, Jun’s more sexually confident side told him, perhaps Aiba had simply taken his jacket to be dry cleaned or had tossed the thing right in the wash, once again losing Jun’s valuable message.

Either way, Jun had decided that his high school crush had come to its bitter end. He had the good sex memories for a lifetime. He ought to have been satisfied with that.

But now the universe had somehow conspired to bring Aiba Masaki back into his life. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

—

Pursuing Suck-cess In 2017: Industry Town Hall  
Sunday, 9:00 AM  
Cosmos 3A  
Speaker: Hashimoto Teru, Product Development Manager, Nyson Japan

Join Nyson’s Hashimoto Teru for this interactive exploration of the trends and technologies that will change the shape of our market category in 2017 and beyond!

—

“So which convention are you here for?” Aiba asked politely, as though the last time they’d seen each other Jun hadn’t had Aiba’s dick in his mouth.

Jun, still a bit stunned, dug his lanyard and badge out of his pocket, letting Aiba take it.

“Japan Transport Safety Board,” Aiba read aloud, nodding. He looked up again, eyes friendly. “Safety’s important!”

“Yup.”

“What is the trucking and logistics thing about?”

“My colleagues and I have a booth in the expo center. We’ve got safety pamphlets to distribute. While we focus more on airlines and trains, highway safety’s part of it too.” Jun was going to fall asleep explaining it. “We’ve got some pamphlets about general driving safety. And then we’re promoting a program, a government partnership with a hotel chain where tired truck drivers can stay at a discounted rate so they don’t fall asleep at the wheel and kill somebody.”

“Sounds like a smart deal,” Aiba agreed. He was fiddling with Jun’s badge, twisting the lanyard between his long fingers. Perhaps he was actually remembering what they’d done the last time they’d been in a hotel together.

“Nah, it’s boring,” Jun admitted, “but the hotel rooms are pretty nice here.”

Aiba didn’t react, setting the lanyard down on the bar top and having another swig from his beer. “Nino and I are in the other hotel, the one on the other side of the expo center. The Cosmos Hotel and Suites.”

“Nino’s here?”

Aiba smiled fondly. “Yeah. There’s some porn shop he likes to go to in Nipponbashi, so he liked having an excuse to come to Osaka with someone else paying for it.”

“I see.”

“This hotel’s a little nicer,” Aiba said. “Our department’s gone through some budget cuts this year, so they put us up on the sad businessman floor. Single bed, the view out the window is of the convention center wall. At least the stuff at the show’s pretty cool.”

As far as Jun remembered from the multiple times Aiba had explained it to him before, he and Ninomiya were on a team that chose what types of gadgets and electronics would be sold in Zic Camera stores. Ninomiya was a nerd, so the job made a lot of sense for him. For Aiba though, Jun got the impression Aiba just liked the excitement that came from testing out new gadgets. The combined power of Ninomiya’s nerdiness and Aiba’s adventurousness and enthusiasm probably made them a good team.

Jun just let Aiba talk and talk. About the new smart home techie shit he was most looking forward to trying out. About the other nerds that he worked with back in Tokyo. About the work baseball team he captained, with Ninomiya as his star pitcher. About the work basketball team nobody else joined. About the restaurant his parents operated. About trying to teach his younger brother’s toddler bad words.

Jun finished his third glass of whiskey, body nearly quivering in rage. It was pretty obvious what was going on here. The sex they’d had together wasn’t just lousy - to Aiba, it wasn’t even worth remembering! Because what else could explain the way Aiba was chattering away without so much as a “you know, about last time, Matsujun…”

Jun had run into exes before, a few casual hook-ups before. There was always that look. The “yeah, I remember what your cock looks like” look. The “yeah, I remember what your face looks like when you come” look. Even if it wasn’t outright acknowledged out loud, at least there was always that look.

What the hell had Jun done wrong that night?!

He flagged down the bartender, pulling out his credit card so he could pay his tab. Aiba caught his shoulder. “Hey, why are you going?”

Jun waved him off, trying to look a bit less than murderous. “Sorry. There’s a breakfast session I’m attending with my colleague in the morning.”

“Oh, I see.” For the first time, Aiba looked a bit disappointed.

“Then I’m on and off at our booth all day. Important government business, you see.”

“Right. Of course. Definitely.”

He signed the receipt, shoving his own copy in his jacket pocket. He wondered if the government would still reimburse him if all he spent his daily 2500 yen on was booze. “Was good to see you, Aiba-san.”

Aiba seemed even more upset when he heard Jun address him so formally. Too little, too late. “Good to see you, too. Maybe I’ll stop here again, the bar I mean…tomorrow night and we could…”

“Bye now.”

He walked away in a huff, not allowing himself to look back. The elevator banks were fairly empty, and he jabbed the “Up” button about eight times in his fury. The whiskey wasn’t helping. How could he not remember? How could Aiba have just sat there making small talk with him as though that night at the reunion had never happened?

He was going to be single forever.

—

Always Hit The Mark: Staying Agile In An Evolving Marketplace  
Sunday, 11:30 AM  
Oak Room I-II  
Speakers: Takeda Eriko, EVP Supply Chain and Yamada Jiro, SVP Logistics Management, FamilyMart

Attend this engaging roundtable talk to learn how to remain flexible in our constantly changing environment. Despite increasing pressure to cut logistics costs, professionals are still expected to deliver top-notch results in increasingly shorter timeframes. Join us to develop benchmarks for efficiency no matter how large or small your operation is.

—

The breakfast in the cavernous Kansai Room III was western-style, and Sho had covered his pancakes in a horrifying amount of maple syrup and whipped cream. Whatever diet he’d been on before his wife had gotten pregnant was over. If she was putting on weight, then he owed it to her to do the same. In _solidarity_ , Sho called it. Jun thought the whole concept was idiotic. Sho’s wife was getting bigger because of basic biology. Sho just wanted an excuse to eat more junk.

He glumly poked at the eggs he’d gotten from the ‘omelettes made to order’ station in the buffet line. No cheese, no meat. He’d behaved himself, ordering his eggs with mushrooms and spinach. 

Jun watched Sho stuff a forkful of calories in his mouth, his eyes closing in bliss.

He should have gotten the fucking pancakes.

Sho looked over, wiping his mouth. “Who killed your dog?”

He sighed, nibbling on a piece of toast. “I’m fine.”

“You look pretty awful,” Sho said, which was rich coming from someone with a small dollop of whipped cream on his nose. “Sleep okay? I always have trouble sleeping in a bed that’s not mine.”

“It’s not that.”

Sho had another bite. They were seated at one of the tables in the very back of the room, away from all the logistics and supply chain professionals here to listen to this morning’s opening speaker, some woman from the postal service blathering on about the “future of fulfillment.” Jun was missing an altogether different kind of fulfillment in his life, he thought bitterly.

“Work-related?” Sho asked nervously. “You think I should have gotten a different kind of candy? Shihori-chan said that…”

He chuckled quietly. “Sho-san, it’s not the candy. Believe me.”

“Okay.”

They continued to eat quietly. Shihori was handling the booth for now, foregoing the free breakfast in favor of some vendor dinner that night. Jun would take the next shift while Sho was planning to attend some conference sessions, see what the latest trends were in hopes of figuring out how best to chat with folks who came to their booth. Sho liked that sort of thing.

Jun had tossed and turned all night, pissed off and restless. In one of his previous jobs, he’d filled out an employee feedback survey, emphatically stating that he wanted to be assessed on a regular basis. In that job, he was usually given an annual review by a supervisor, but for someone with a brain wired like Jun’s, that simply wasn’t good enough. He’d talked a supervisor into reviewing his work quarterly, and now at the JTSB, his current supervisor Sakamoto-san met with him every month to check in with him.

Basically, Jun was the type of person who needed constant feedback, no matter how insignificant the issue might be. Typos in his work—Sho usually caught those and because Sho was Sho, he was happy to point them out to Jun without being an asshole about it. Sakamoto-san edited his and Sho’s work, explaining where to tighten up their writing, where to make cuts. Jun, an anxiety-prone person, preferred to know right away if he was fucking up and preferred to know right away if he was doing something perfectly.

This incident with Aiba…or more like these incidents, plural…

It was just the kind of thing to drive him crazy. Aiba’s sudden appearances and even more sudden disappearances from his life. And now Aiba’s complete inability to so much as comment on the one night they’d had together. If Aiba thought Jun had sucked in bed, he should at least have said something. If Jun hadn’t sucked in bed but Aiba wasn’t that into him for more than that one night thing, he should at least have said something. Had Aiba ever found Jun’s number in his jacket? He didn’t have any answers, and fuck, it was pissing him off.

Aiba’s behavior at the bar made absolutely zero sense, and given their previous interactions, Jun thought he’d be stuck wondering why for the rest of his life.

“Sho-san,” he mumbled. “Did you have a crush on anyone in high school?”

For his part, Sho managed to treat Jun’s question respectfully, but Jun supposed that was because they were both serious souls. “Ah, well…I went to an all-boys high school, Matsumoto-kun…”

Jun shook his head. “Sorry…”

“But there were girls at the cram school I went to that I liked. And some of my friends had cute sisters…”

“And if you were ever presented with the opportunity to sleep with one of those women, did you go for it?”

Sho blushed. “In high school?”

“No, at any time…perhaps ten years later…”

“This is a rather specific line of inquiry.”

“I’ve had one night stands before, Sho-san, where it was pretty obviously not going to happen again. But say you have a stronger connection with someone, that you’ve met them multiple times before. And then you sleep together. And you exchange numbers and everything. So then what’s your reaction when they never call?”

“I guess I’d be upset.”

“Right?” he replied emphatically. “You’d be really fucking upset!”

Sho took a very slow, diplomatic sip from his cup of coffee. “I have to ask…did _you_ try to call the person?”

“Yeah. The number I was given was wrong. But…um…” He thought of Aiba and his long decade of handing over incorrect business cards. “Um…I don’t think it was maliciously intended.”

“The person gave you a wrong number by accident?”

“He’s always given me the wrong number. But it’s the same wrong number. I see this person every four or five years…”

“Like the World Cup!”

He paused, looking over to see that Sho was very concerned. He’d even set his pancake fork down. “Yeah, like the World Cup, I guess. But anyhow, I saw him last night…”

“What? No way!”

Jun dug around in his pocket, finding the business card Aiba had given him, as though they hadn’t done that salaryman song and dance before. He kept it in his hand, not quite wanting Sho to see it. “The last time I saw this guy, mind you, we had sex on every surface of his hotel room.”

“I see.” Sho reached for his orange juice, guzzling it down.

Jun kept going, knowing Sho would forgive him for being vulgar. Jun had spilled his guts to Sho on multiple occasions before. “So like, the first thing he does is walk up to the bar, sit down, pat me on the back. And hands me his business card!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s here for a different conference. But we talked for a long time and not once did our last…encounter come up in conversation.”

“Do you think he was trying to avoid the topic?”

“No, I think he might have actually forgotten we’d even hooked up.”

Sho munched on a piece of bacon, pointing the rest of it at Jun. Upon swallowing, Sho shook his head, the bacon wiggling in his fingers as he gestured with it. “You don’t forget something like that.”

“It’s the only explanation that makes sense to me. Because he had my number and never called me. I had his number and believe me, I tried to call him.”

Sho shook the bacon again. “He gave you his business card yesterday, right? Call him. Don’t settle for another World Cup. Call him and demand an explanation. Then at least you’ll have closure.”

Jun sighed. “He’s given this same card to me over and over. It’s the wrong number.”

“And you never told him so? Wouldn’t you want to know if your business card had incorrect information?”

He paused. He’d spent all these years angry at Aiba for ditching him, and the idea of correcting him had never crossed his mind. “I guess that would be a good enough excuse to talk to him again.”

“Exactly,” Sho said. “Do you know what conference he’s here for?”

“Yeah. And he said he might be at the hotel bar tonight too…”

“Well, there you go,” Sho said, swishing another bite of pancake around in the syrup river on his plate before stuffing it in his mouth. He continued talking around his food. “Be proactive.”

“Be proactive,” he repeated, finding that his eggs were now too cold to bother with.


	2. Chapter 2

Q&A - Be Persistent With Persimmons!  
Sunday, 3:00 PM  
Garden Room B  
Speakers: Nishiyama Tomokazu, Omoto Taizo, Hara Reiko, Japan Agriculture Bureau—Produce Division

You’ve got questions, we’ve got answers. Come chat with this panel of experts, who will provide you with solutions to the most pertinent persimmon problems plaguing your production. We want to hear from you!

—

“Be proactive,” Jun was still muttering to himself hours later, standing behind the JTSB table.

He’d called the number on the business card Aiba had given him, just to be sure. And yeah, it was still wrong. It was still the number for a take-out ramen place in Ebisu.

His shift was finally winding down and not a moment too soon. Shihori had stayed with him for a while to keep him company, and they’d realized that Sho’s candy was quickly vanishing. Even in their poor traffic zone, people were bound and determined to try and find every freebie possible.

Sho had given Shihori the ice bucket from his hotel room, loading it up with individually-wrapped mini chocolate bars. It was already half gone by the time Jun showed up, but only a handful of people had taken pamphlets. The new solution was probably cruel, but perhaps it would work.

Shihori returned halfway through Jun’s shift with a plastic bag from some office supply store, using part of her daily food allowance to instead buy some scotch tape. She and Jun had then taped a piece of candy to each of their brochures. If someone wanted something now, they had no choice but to accept the government pamphlet along with the candy.

They’d have to restock the candy come morning, but at the very least the pamphlets were starting to move. They needed the numbers for their quarterly outreach report and to continue justifying the cost of printing them at all instead of relying solely on their Stay Alert, Stay Alive homepage. Dull metrics, all of them, but it would make Sakamoto-san happy.

When Sho finally arrived to relieve him, Jun was still trying to gather his courage. He wasn’t the most confrontational person. He usually had to be kind of drunk. Sho approached, notebook tucked under his arm. The smile that spread across his face at the sight of the candy-brochure hybrids was rather endearing.

“That was smart,” Sho admitted, moving behind the table and resting his stuff on the chair behind them. “How’d everything go?”

“The tape was Shihori-chan’s idea. Credit where credit is due. Looks like we’ll need more candy tomorrow.”

The expo center would be open another three and a half hours, and Sho would finish the night out on his own. “Excellent. Any oddball questions?”

Jun shook his head. “This one guy asked why we were wasting taxpayer money with a booth here, but he got the standard reply.”

Sho nodded, and they recited it together: “Thank you very much for your feedback. We suggest that you please contact the member of the House of Representatives for your voting district with any concerns you may have.” 

“Ah,” Sho laughed. “It’s been a while since I got to use that one.”

“It was every bit as satisfying as it always is,” Jun admitted. Voter apathy was always a good card to play.

Jun leaned against the table, picking at a little bit of fuzz on his suit jacket. Aiba’s business card was burning a hole in his pocket. Sho took one of the pamphlets, ripping the chocolate bar off of it and shoving the pamphlet in his convention swag bag. He had half the candy gone before he looked over at Jun.

“So are you going to confront him?”

Jun nodded. “I think so.”

“At the very least, you’re helping him in his job. The wrong number on the business card thing.”

“Right.”

“I hope it goes well for you.”

He shrugged. “Either he really forgot about having sex with me or having sex with me sucked. There’s no middle ground here, Sho-san. And both options reflect poorly on me as a romantic partner.”

“It could be something else. Some other explanation,” Sho said encouragingly. 

Easy for him to say. Sho had a really great ass. No woman sleeping with him could have ever forgotten it. Not that he’d ever tell Sho as much.

“Want me to stick around a while?”

Sho shrugged. “That’s up to you. You might keep me from eating all the candy myself.”

Jun agreed to stay, if only to kill time until he was going to find his way back to the Byatt Regency bar. He knew he had the option to forget all about it, to hop onto the subway and find different entertainment for the evening and for the rest of the conference. He could show Aiba the same amount of respect that Aiba had shown him.

But he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. Even if he only breezed in to Jun’s life every four or five years (like the World Cup, said Sho’s voice in his head), Aiba was different. He was frustrating as hell, but Jun knew he couldn’t give him up. It was irrational, and Jun loathed being irrational, but he needed to know what he’d done wrong.

If he was ever going to find “the one,” he couldn’t have any lingering doubts about his capabilities as a lover. He couldn’t pursue a permanent relationship, a true future, with the Aiba questions hanging around in his head.

Sho, kind guy that he was, talked about anything but relationship issues. Instead he and Jun stood behind the table together, discussing work stuff, upcoming projects on their plate. The nitty-gritty stuff that drove Shihori up a wall, but that Jun liked to think about. Sho was kind of big picture and relied on Jun to focus on the little details. It was a welcome distraction, their chat broken up every few minutes by someone reluctantly taking a pamphlet in order to take the candy.

They passed an hour and a half in this fashion before Jun knew he couldn’t monopolize any more of Sho’s time. He departed, exhaling nervously as he headed back through the convention center. Moving through the halls, he could see the different rooms for the other conferences. Each person had to show their badge before being allowed through, and Jun frowned. He was stuck with the truckers and the shippers.

He took a long walk, all the way from one end of the convention center to the other, coming rather close to entering the Cosmos Hotel and Suites, backing off when he saw the signage for the conference being hosted there. VacEx 2016: 19th Annual Vacuum Convention and Show, the signs proudly stated. An entire convention about vacuums?

He grabbed dinner at one of the restaurants in his own hotel, lingering longer than he had to. Even the waitress seemed worried about him, especially when she caught him staring into space, daydreaming about having some grand confrontation with Aiba. 

You’re horrible, he’d scream. You can’t treat people this way, he’d scream. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen, he’d scream. You kiss with a bit too much tongue, he’d scream. And each scenario ended with him dramatically throwing his drink in Aiba’s face before being hauled out by security. Sho would have to come bail him out from Byatt Regency jail. In his scenario, the hotel had a jail, too.

Instead he simply apologized to the waitress, asking for the bill. He paid, pocketing his receipt and slumping off in the direction of the bar. It was past 9:00 by now, and he realized just why the waitress had been concerned. He’d spent almost three hours eating a salad. He should have stayed in the convention center with Sho.

He hovered in the entryway, repeatedly excusing himself as other patrons slipped past him. He found Aiba Masaki sitting alone in one of the booths way in the back, sipping from a pint glass and looking…

…a bit nervous?

Jun shook his head. No, Aiba Masaki didn’t get nervous. Aiba Masaki smiled and laughed all day long. He was calm and collected, unlike Jun, who’d had his elaborate daydreams about wasting money and good alcohol by throwing it in Aiba’s face for the last several hours.

Jun did his best to calm down, to not become the hysterical overdramatic wreck he’d been in all of his brain’s wildest scenarios. He approached the booth. “Hey.”

Aiba looked up, and Jun almost lost his nerve, seeing the bright and friendly smile he’d fallen for so easily, half a lifetime ago. Tonight Aiba was in the same gray suit he’d worn the day before but with a different colored tie. A hideous green striped thing dotted with little watermelon slices. “Matsujun, you came! Sit, sit.”

Jun did so.

“Let me treat you. What are you having?” Aiba asked.

In Jun’s scenario, they’d been sitting at the bar together. Thus it had been easier for Jun to slip off the stool and toss his drink in Aiba’s face. Stuck together in the booth, he’d have to wiggle his way back out before any drink tossing.

Instead he held up a hand. “Aiba-san, I have something to say to you, and I’d rather you not respond until I’m finished.”

Aiba’s warm brown eyes widened, his fingers fidgeting around the base of his beer glass. He nodded in acknowledgment.

In Jun’s daydream, he’d slapped the business card down onto the bar counter, hard enough to knock over Aiba’s beer. In reality, he took it out and gently set it between them. He tapped it with his finger.

“Your phone number is wrong.”

“I…”

“Please don’t interrupt me.”

Aiba shut up, though Jun was a bit pleased to see the slight tremor in his hand before he set his hands in his lap, off the table where Jun couldn’t see.

“Ten years ago or so, at the five-year reunion. That was at that dive bar near Gotanda Station. We met there, and you gave me this business card. We made plans to meet up, and it didn’t work out. I couldn’t reach you because the number on this card is wrong.”

Aiba at least was looking guilty now.

“Fast forward to five years ago. This was the 10-year reunion. You had Nino invite you to that one as well. That reunion was at a hotel. We met there, and you gave me this business card.”

“Matsujun…”

“Let me finish.”

Aiba couldn’t even meet his eyes now, his dark fringe hanging in his face.

“You gave me this business card, and I gave you my phone number. In fact, I gave you my phone number multiple times. I wrote it down and slipped it into the pocket of that red bomber jacket you wore that night. I also put my number into the pockets of your pants. How did such a thing happen? How did I find myself in a position where I could sneak a piece of paper into your jeans?”

“Oh gosh…” Aiba muttered.

“Because you weren’t wearing them at the time, Aiba-san. I slipped them into your clothes while you were showering. And then we…” Jun cleared his throat, tapping again on the business card to gather his courage. “And then we had sex. We had very very…um, well…I don’t know if frantic is the right word, but I’ll go with that for now. Frantic, energetic sex. And then we fell asleep and when I woke up…”

“Oh, Matsujun…”

“Stop!” he growled, knocking his fist on the table. Aiba’s beer swished a little but didn’t even come close to tipping over. “And when I woke up, not only were you gone without a word, but you took my fucking jeans with you. Of course, that was the last time I heard from you because, surprise surprise, you once again gave me a business card with the wrong phone number on it.”

With each thing he said, he felt like a weight was lifting. But with each thing he said, he could see Aiba’s handsome face filling with horror.

“So you took my jeans, fine. But you took that red jacket, which means you had my phone number. One might conclude that you never emptied the pockets of that jacket, so maybe you didn’t have my number. But I have social media. I can be found, unlike you. Nothing about that night screamed ‘one time only’ to me, Aiba-san. Not when Ninomiya gave me a keycard to that hotel room when I got there. That was planned. That was deliberate. So what was I supposed to think? I’ll tell you what I thought.”

He tapped repeatedly on the business card, finger thumping against the table.

“I thought that it must have been awful, at least in your eyes. Because if it was something you wanted to do again, you’d have found a way to contact me. That’s option number one, the ‘sex with Jun was really fucking bad’ option. And then option number two might be worse. Option number two means you forgot we even had sex in the first place.” 

He stopped tapping, if only because he could see Aiba shaking across from him. Aiba’s eyes were wet, but Jun knew he had to finish what he had to say. He kept his voice calm and steady, barely louder than the jazzy music piping through the bar.

“And that makes you look pretty bad, Aiba-san, since you were neither drunk nor on any illicit substances when you fucked me. But then you came up to me yesterday without even seeming to remember what we’d done. You handed me this stupid card, and your number is still wrong. For the love of…this phone number goes to a ramen shop, Aiba-san.”

He got to his feet, slipping out of the booth, and Aiba looked up in surprise. Jun rested his hands on his hips, hoping he looked cold and heartless and untouchable. He opted not to go for the Byatt Regency jail scenario. He wasn’t that tacky.

“It’s irresponsible, giving out business cards with incorrect information. It reflects poorly on you as an employee. It’s my humble suggestion that you have new cards made as soon as possible. Goodbye.”

He turned around without saying anything else, speedwalking out of the bar. He was halfway to the elevator banks when he heard his name.

“Jun! Jun, wait for me!”

He pressed the “up” button anyhow.

“Jun!”

One of the elevators opened and he hurried inside, hitting the button for his floor and then repeatedly tapping the “close door” button. He heard the squeak of shoes on the tile, saw Aiba come skidding to a halt right in front of him.

Aiba looked awful, tears streaking down his face. He tried to catch his breath. “Jun…” he huffed. “Jun…I didn’t forget…”

But then the doors closed, taking Jun up up and away.

—

Domo Arigatou, Mister Roboto: Helpers In Our Homes  
Sunday, 10:00 AM  
Willow Room A  
Speaker: Sanada Maika (appears courtesy of Kouno E. Publishing)

In the future, robots will cook and clean, turning housework into a thing of the past. But what does this mean for the traditional housewife? How might her role evolve after the robot revolution? Sanada Maika, housewife and the acclaimed author of _Cleaning Is A Snap: 500 Fast and Easy Household Solutions_ , explores what tasks robots will be able to replace…and what situations will always call for a more human touch.

—

He slept even worse that Saturday night. Instinct told him he should have waited for Aiba to explain himself. After all, wasn’t that the one thing he actually wanted? But if he’d stayed in that bar a moment longer, he’d have ended up saying something even worse. He likely wouldn’t have thrown a drink…and not just because he hadn’t ordered one. Instead he’d have said something he knew he’d regret.

At least now he’d gotten out all of his complaints, and then when the fifteen or twenty year reunions rolled around, he’d be able to keep cool. Not let himself get drawn into the Aiba Masaki trap yet again.

He took first shift at the booth in the expo center that morning, picking up the new bags of candy Sho had bought. Sho had simply handed them over, an inquisitive look on his face. Jun had just sighed. “Tell you later,” he mumbled, letting Sho head out for some sightseeing tour with Shihori that one of the trucking companies had sponsored.

Enormous coffee in hand, he spent a long, miserable morning in the convention center. It seemed that most of the logistics professionals had likely had a wild night as even fewer of them were milling around on a Sunday morning. Jun busied himself rigging up the day’s batch of candy-pamphlet hybrids. Only five were taken during his entire shift.

He grew so bored that he and the woman in the booth beside his, the company with the pens, mutually agreed to exercise together. Even in a dress, nylons, and heels, she did some stretches, a few jumping jacks. They did some squats, jogged in place. Nobody was coming by to judge them.

Shihori came to relieve him around noon, looking well-rested and fresh after her morning tour. She gave him a poke in the arm. “How’s your lost love?”

He rolled his eyes. He should have known that she’d pry the information out of Sho. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sure,” she said, ignoring his request, grabbing one of the candy-pamphlets and tearing the chocolate bar off of it. Like Sho had done before, she shoved the pamphlet in her bag as though it had been taken by any other conference-goer. “Sho-san said it was all about you getting closure. From the look on your face, I’m guessing that didn’t happen yet.”

“I said what I wanted to say to him.”

“And?”

“And then I ran away. It was not my finest hour.”

She rubbed his arm affectionately before unwrapping her candy. “Sho-san is a very proper man, you know, so he was pretty vague on details no matter how much I prodded him. But if a guy gave me the wrong phone number on three separate occasions, I’d kill him.”

He looked down at her, grinning. “Is that really worth committing murder over?”

“I prefer straightforward men.”

“I don’t think he gave me the wrong number on purpose.”

She huffed. “I also prefer men who aren’t complete idiots.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that…”

“Then how is it like?” she asked pointedly.

Jun couldn’t get the image of Aiba out of his mind. The look on his face as the elevator doors closed on him. The guilt he’d shown in the bar as Jun laid into him without stopping. “I didn’t forget,” Aiba had said. He’d been crying. And Jun had just left him there.

“I think I’m going to take lunch now,” he said. 

Shihori shoved four candy-pamphlets at him, and he stuffed them in his bag. Sho had asked him to sit in on a few of the conference sessions, if only so it seemed like the government got its money’s worth sending all three of them to the conference for the entire long weekend. He was going to need the sugar to get through the afternoon.

One mediocre club sandwich and chips later, Jun headed into the Zelkova Room deep in the bowels of the convention center. The air conditioning in the lower levels was cranked up way too high, so at least it would keep him awake during what was sure to be an hour of pain and suffering. Industry best practices for an industry he was not a part of.

He set down his bag and put his phone on silent, having a seat in the second to last row all the way to the right. Despite the cold, dry air, the room filled almost to capacity. The doors had just closed when someone quickly maneuvered into the empty seat beside him.

A balding man came to the podium to introduce the speaker just as Jun noticed a familiar gray suit fabric on the legs of the man beside him. He took a more deliberate peek, inhaling sharply when he realized that Aiba Masaki was now sitting next to him.

Before Jun could say anything, Aiba merely smiled at him, bringing a finger to his lips and telling him to ssh. While the introduction carried on at the front of the Zelkova Room, Aiba lifted the badge on the lanyard hanging around his neck. It was not a badge for Aiba Masaki attending the HomeSmarts Show and Expo. It was a badge for a logistics conference attendee named Kazama Shunsuke.

Jun leaned forward, digging around in his bag for one of the candy-pamphlets. He flipped it over, writing on it angrily as the crowd around them burst into polite applause for the speaker coming to the podium.

“Where have we been?” the speaker asked in a booming voice. “And where are we going? I hope you’ll kindly indulge me for the next hour as we discuss the future of our industry. I’ll be happy to answer any of your questions after the presentation.”

Jun finished writing, holding it out so Aiba could see it.

_Who is Kazama? What are you doing here?_

Aiba leaned over, yanking the pen from his hand. His handwriting was really horrible.

_I will explain. Hold on._

And then Aiba was pulling out a hefty stack of small papers from inside his jacket, each piece of paper filled with more sloppy handwriting. Aiba handed them over one at a time, not seeming to care if other people around them were a bit annoyed by the rustling. From the sizeable number of papers with Cosmos Hotel and Suites letterhead, he’d spent quite a while getting his thoughts together. But he hadn’t bothered to write them down on a larger piece of paper.

_(1) Hi Matsujun. It’s me, Aiba Masaki._

Jun looked over, irritated beyond belief. Aiba’s expression was nervous but still hopeful. He pointed down for Jun to continue.

_(1) Hi Matsujun. It’s me, Aiba Masaki. I know you have a lot of questions._

Aiba handed over the next note.

_(2) First, how am I at your conference? I have Nino to thank. Nino is a bit of a rascal. Whenever we come to conventions, he tends to pick up badges he finds on the floor._

Aiba handed over the next one.

_(3) He doesn’t turn them over to Lost and Found like he should. He likes to use them to check out other conventions and find free stuff. It can be fun sometimes._

Aiba handed over the next one.

_(4) So I don’t know who Kazama is, but I’m him today so I can come talk to you. I couldn’t leave things how they were last night._

At this point, Jun simply yanked the rest of the notes from Aiba’s hand so he could read them all together.

_(5) Thank you very much for informing me that the phone number on my business card is wrong. I had no idea. That may sound dumb, but it’s the truth._

_(6) When I first started at Zic right out of college, they said we could order business cards. I read the form wrong and instead of getting 500 business cards I accidentally ticked the box for 5000. Who needs 5000 business cards???_

_(7) And that’s really thick, fancy card stock you know, so I didn’t want to just throw them in the recycling bin. Someone went to all the trouble of making them with my name and all. It would be rude to ignore their hard work. So I’ve been handing them out all this time._

_(8) But thinking about it some more, I realized that only a few months after I started, I got moved from sales to the buying department. I never call myself so I never realized that they changed my phone number._

_(9) Now you must really think I’m an idiot, and I guess I’m not going to deny it. But that’s what happened. My phone number switched only months after I got my 5000 business cards so the number has been wrong all that time._

_(10) It’s been 10 years and I still have a ton of the cards left to give away. And you know what really upsets me now that I know it’s been wrong all this time? Well obviously I’m upset that I have probably missed all these phone calls from people (especially from you, Matsujun)._

_(11) But also I’ve been trying to get rid of these cards by dropping them in jars at restaurants. You know when they have jars set out on the counter and it says ‘put your business card in here for the chance to win a free lunch’ and I always put my card in those jars._

_(12) For ten years I just thought I had bad luck and that I was never going to win anything but now I might have actually won hundreds of free lunches but they could never reach me, that’s so frustrating!!!!_

Jun looked over, raising an eyebrow. Aiba’s sheepish smile in return made his heart race. Of all the things to be upset about. Not potentially losing clients or anything…

_(13) So I swear and I promise and I vow that from this day forward Aiba Masaki will drop all of those incorrect business cards in paper recycling!!!!! I will order new ones and before that happens I will verify that the number is correct._

_(14) I completely totally 100% no I completely 1000000000% apologize for giving you false information over and over again. I feel so horrible about this._

_(15) And you know after the first time, you know the five year reunion thing, I thought maybe you were angry with me because you told me about the love hotel and then I was dumb and got that note from you wet so we couldn’t meet at all but I knew I gave you my card so I figured that you didn’t want to call me._

_(16) So I accepted that. I wouldn’t want to call me either since I ditched you even when I really didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to!!!!!!! I really didn’t!!!!!! Really!!!!!!!_

“Do you have to put so many exclamation points?” he mumbled under his breath, trying not to laugh.

“I’m just being honest,” Aiba whispered in reply.

Jun loved Aiba’s exclamation points. He absolutely loved them, and the anger he’d felt toward Aiba was already starting to fade a bit.

_(17) So now I should probably get to the biggest apology that I owe you. I am so sorry Jun. I am so sorry, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am about what happened at the ten year reunion._

_(18) My explanation is going to be stupid again, and I’m sorry for that too. All of my explanations are stupid, but Nino said if I wasn’t honest with you that I was a bad person because even he didn’t know everything that happened that night._

_(19) And now that he knows, he’s super pissed off (at me, not at you of course). He wants you to know, Matsujun, that if he had known that my phone number on the business card was wrong all this time that he’d have found a way to give you my cell phone number._

_(20) And Nino wants you to know that if he knew that I had pulled a “fuck and run” on you (this is what Nino called it okay) that he would have kicked my ass five years ago and had me call you._

_(21) But I guess I never told Nino about it because there was other stuff going on at the time. It’s really stupid looking back on it but let me at least try to explain._

Jun couldn’t help smiling at Aiba’s comments about Ninomiya. All this time, Nino really had been cheering them on.

_(22) So let me tell you that the week that you and I had sex, I had just been dumped. I had been dating someone for three years and we were very serious. Or maybe I was very serious and he was just a complete lying jerk!!!_

_(23) Anyway he broke up with me maybe the Tuesday or Wednesday before the reunion and he told me that he found somebody new and that he didn’t want to cheat on me or anything but that he was going to be with this other person now._

_(24) Like not even a cooling off period, he was going to get with that other person immediately and he was only telling me as a courtesy!!!!! After three years!!!!! We were living together and everything!!!!!!_

_(25) And the person he got together with was someone he’d apparently been hanging out with at work all this time behind my back but he was all “I didn’t cheat on you, having dinner with another guy isn’t cheating” and I guess it’s really not._

_(26) But everything about it was just really awful, finding out one day that the person you trusted and loved and shared a home with was dumping you out of the blue. It may not have been out of the blue on his end, but it was on mine!!!!!!!!!!_

Jun looked over, saw that Aiba was holding back tears.

_(27) So I thought going to the reunion would be good so I could catch up with the guys from the team and Nino found out you were coming, so we both thought I could find an opportunity to apologize._

_(28) Nino got the hotel room so we could talk privately. But then as you know I fell asleep in the hotel room. It had been a long week and I was looking for a new apartment, sleeping at Nino’s place, still going to work, it was pretty awful._

_(29) But you were perfect, Jun!!!!! You showed up and I don’t know it was like everything bugging me just froze or disappeared I don’t know, I’m not good at explaining this kind of thing!!!!_

_(30) I suppose being with you falls under that ‘rebound’ sort of designation, but you had no idea because I didn’t tell you anything. I’m sorry._

_(31) I was so exhausted but then you were there and Jun you just looked so hot (you really are, okay) that everything I was supposed to do that night didn’t happen._

_(32) I didn’t apologize for the other reunion, I didn’t tell you I was depressed, I just pretty much used you to feel better and to feel wanted again and it was so good being with you and that’s really selfish I know._

_(33) I know it is, I do. It was selfish of me especially considering what happened._

By this point, Aiba’s handwriting was getting really difficult to read, but Jun refused to quit. He thought back on that night. It really had been odd that he’d found Aiba asleep - Aiba had told him it was because he’d worked late. That, apparently, had been a lie. Aiba had been in pain that night. Aiba had been living a nightmare, his entire world turned upside down. And Jun had had no idea.

_(34) Now what you said to me last night. You thought that what happened meant one of two things - that you were bad in bed or that I forgot we even had sex. Those are both very much not true!!!!!_

_(35) I was in a weird place, but the fact that you made me forget it, even for a little while, meant more than I realized. You made me feel wanted again, worthwhile again. You are good in bed, don’t you ever doubt that for a second (honestly!!!!!!!!!)_

_(36) Is it weird if I say again that you are hot?? You really are hot!!!_

Jun blushed, moving to the next group of papers.

_(37) My ex called me really late that night. You were asleep. He told me that things were not going well with that other guy, he was sorry, blah blah blah. Stupid stuff. He asked me to come home, he wanted me to stay._

_(38) I had half my stuff moved out already at that point. Jun, I wasn’t going to fall for it. It was 4:00 in the morning and I didn’t put the light on, I just grabbed what I thought were my clothes._

_(39) I left you behind and I took a taxi and went to the apartment. And instead of letting him beg me to come back, I got started on moving everything else out right then and there. I wasn’t the problem, my ex was the problem._

_(40) Being with you, even though all we did was have sex, I knew that I was worth more. I knew it was the right call not to go back to my ex, not to forgive him. I had all my stuff in the hall of the apartment building, it was a real problem._

_(41) Nino came and helped me and we moved it to a storage locker that morning and I was so done with that guy. I didn’t even realize I’d taken your jeans until later that night at Nino’s. Because I was going to apologize and call you but I didn’t have your number._

_(42) You told me last night you put it in my jacket. I don’t even know where that jacket ended up when Nino and I started moving all my stuff. So I figured we’d had the same problem again!!!!_

_(43) But I knew you had my card, I knew I’d given it to you, so I hoped you’d call and we could work it out. And then when you didn’t call, I figured it was because you didn’t want to. I ran away without even saying anything to you because I was so mad about my ex._

_(44) It’s not fair to you, none of it was fair to you, Jun!!!!_

Jun shook his head, astonished by how much Aiba had written to him. All of this to explain himself, to apologize. He turned to the last handful of notes.

_(45) I thought you were right to be angry with me. I used you for sex, right? So when I saw you here at the convention, I didn’t even think you’d talk to me._

_(46) I thought you hated me for ditching you, so I tried not to bring it up. I guess that was stupid of me to do, but I was so happy to see you, I thought it was best to play it safe._

_(47) But then last night you told me about the business cards, and I just felt rotten. I still do, okay? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough to you. I want to start over!!!! Can we please start over??????_

_(48) So that is why I am going to infiltrate your conference and force you to hang out with me!!!!!! I want to get to know you!!!!! You’re not the Matsujun from high school who came to all my games. You’re Matsujun the adult, and that’s who I want to know._

_(49) I wrote a lot but I don’t want to end on 49._

_(50) So here is my cell phone number. Please send me a message so you know it’s real!!!!!_

Jun set the massive pile of notes down in his bag, only keeping the last one that had a phone number on it. Aiba sat beside him expectantly as Jun added his contact number in his phone. “Hi” was all Jun sent as a text message, and Aiba’s phone vibrated. He held it out, smiling.

Aiba reached over, writing on Jun’s candy-pamphlet. 

_10 years of misunderstandings and now we finally have each other’s number. So glad!!!!!_

Jun wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. Aiba’s story was…well, it was a lot to take in, especially across a stack of 50 handwritten notes. But he had the answers he’d sought for so long. He had confirmation that he hadn’t sucked. And he had confirmation that he hadn’t been forgotten. Sho had been right - it really _had_ been something else entirely. All this time, Jun had been obsessed with what he might have done wrong. And here was Aiba taking all the blame. But really, they’d both failed to communicate.

But here was a second chance. 

No wait. Jun had to count again. High school. Five year reunion. Ten year reunion…

Here was a _fourth_ chance. And he wasn’t going to let it slip away this time.

He wrote on the pamphlet again.

_I accept your apology._

Aiba tugged the pen back.

_Then let’s go have fun!!!_

—

Follow Me: Cultivating Social Followers In Floorcare  
Saturday, 5:00 PM  
Cosmos 4A  
Speaker: Miura Keito, SVP Participation Strategy, DDBO Japan

These days it seems like every brand has a social media presence, so how can your vacuum brand stand out in the crowd? It all comes down to listening to the voice of your customer, and speaking to them in their language. Marketing guru Miura Keito is here to cover the do’s and don’ts of your social strategy, showing how any brand can use a Snapchat Story or Sponsored Tweet to stay on fleek with Millennials and other core customer bases.

—

As soon as they’d exited the freezing cold Zelkova Room, Aiba had taken him by the arm, yanking him over to one of the empty tables in the ugly-carpeted corridor. Upending his bag onto the table, Jun’s eyes went wide at the pile of colorful lanyards and plastic-covered badges that fell out of it.

It turned out that Aiba didn’t just have a badge for Jun’s conference, courtesy of Nino’s sticky fingers. He had equivalent badges for every single conference going on that weekend at the convention center, badges for the dental society meeting in the Byatt Regency, as well as badges for the vacuum conference in his own hotel.

“I’ve got two of everything. Nino has a stash in his room, and he made sure I had one of each for you too. Where do you want to go?”

Jun couldn’t help laughing. His miserable, miserable weekend had just done a 180. He had Aiba Masaki at his side. After all these years and all these misfires, they were on the same page. He was catching the shinkansen back to Tokyo at 6:00 PM the following evening, but until then, he had Aiba Masaki at his side.

His first thought was “let’s just have sex.” But no, no he didn’t want to do that. Okay, he really wanted to do that, especially now that he had a note in his bag where it was written very clearly (if not very legibly) that Aiba found him hot. But he needed more than that. After all this time, he needed way more than that.

Jun spread out all the badges, trying not to think too hard about all the people wandering the convention hall who might have been at their wits’ end about losing them. He picked up two badges that had orange around the edges. Kodaira Jotaro, Shikoku Fruit Farmers Bureau Annual Meeting and Fujii Junichi, Shikoku Fruit Farmers Bureau Annual Meeting.

“Wanna check this one out?” he asked.

Aiba agreed, taking the badge for Fujii Junichi. “I like fruit. Maybe they’ll have free samples.”

Aiba stuffed all the other contraband badges back in his bag, and they swapped out their logistics badges for the fruit farmer badges. Together they headed up to another floor, giggling their way up the escalator and probably looking like a pair of fools. But Jun really didn’t care.

The conference for the fruit farmers turned out to be less than exciting. It was a very small conference, and they noticed fairly quickly that they stood out. Most of the attendees were in their sixties, maybe older, hunched over older men with tanned skin from long hours working outside in their orchards. Only a handful of them were in suits, most of them in polo shirts and khaki slacks. Their small exhibition hall was sadly not full of free fruit samples but instead farming and irrigation equipment, soil supplements, and seeds.

They flashed their badges at the entryway anyhow, Jun a little nervous about getting caught but Aiba waltzed in like he owned the place. Apparently Ninomiya had been running his badge scam for years so Aiba was used to sneaking around as someone he wasn’t. A few people looked at them a bit oddly - probably because they didn’t look anything like Shikoku fruit farmers - but the badges seemed to keep them from voicing any objections.

“Oh Matsujun, there’s a tractor!” Aiba exclaimed, jabbing him in the side with his pointy elbow.

Jun groaned a little in pain. Since he’d been angry with Aiba for all these years, he’d kind of forgotten how enthusiastic he could get. Aiba the team captain who’d always cheerfully rounded up his players on the basketball court.

Aiba hurried along, entering a queue for the largest tractor. Jun tried not to roll his eyes, getting in line behind him. There was an entire “Check It Out” area with three different types of small tractors, spraying devices for what Jun presumed were insecticides, and industrial-strength ladders.

There was a young woman at the front of the queue wearing a pretty white dress dotted with apples. She was wearing a hat shaped like a bowl of fruit, the badge around her neck noting that she worked for a company called Yoshimoto Tractors. “Hello there,” the woman said when they approached. “Can I help you find your next tractor?”

“Yes! Yes you can,” Aiba said confidently.

“Wonderful! What model are you currently using, if I might ask?”

Aiba’s smile froze on his face. “The…the uh…” He mumbled under his breath a little. “….mmfhhmfffmm 5000.”

The woman was confused. “The what?”

“He’s always wanted to try out a Yoshimoto,” Jun interrupted, even as he tried to keep from shaking. Was he really panicking at the thought of being booted from a fruit farmer convention? “Can he have a look?”

The woman went along with it. “Of course, of course. This one here is our newest model.” They headed over for a tractor painted a rather vibrant green. “What sort of acreage is your farm, sir?”

Aiba ignored her, setting down his bag and hopping right aboard, settling in the seat and turning the steering wheel in his hands. “Ah, this is great!”

The woman, undeterred, turned to Jun. “This model is good for farms of all sizes, but if you have less land, I’d recommend that you try the…”

“Hey, take a picture of me on the tractor!” Aiba cried, waving his hand at Jun. He was a real interesting sight, a noisy man in a gray suit sitting on a tractor.

“As far as my boss has told me,” Jun said to the poor saleswoman, “he’s only here to get a sense of the new models. If you had some additional, er, literature about this…a sales catalog, I mean…”

“Oh yes, right away!”

The woman hurried off to some display table not far from the ladders that were set up. Jun used the opportunity to pull his phone from his pocket. He knew people were definitely staring at them now, and he knew his face was red when he pointed his phone in Aiba’s direction.

“Pose quickly,” Jun admonished him.

Aiba nodded. “First, a serious one!” He sat with his back ramrod straight, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Jun counted to three and snapped the picture. He did look pretty cool, but Jun supposed he was a bit biased when it came to Aiba.

“Okay.”

“And a fun one!”

Aiba then took one hand off the tractor’s steering wheel, offering a peace sign in Jun’s direction. He took a second picture.

By then the woman was back, a stack of catalogs in her arms. “Can I have your email address? We sometimes offer discounts on our mailing lists, and we feature tips and information about your warranty…”

“When he places his order. Thank you very much,” Jun said, putting his phone back in his pocket and taking the catalogs. By now Aiba had merrily hopped off the tractor and was climbing one of the ladders, waving for Jun to hurry over. Jun shoved the heavy catalogs in his bag, rushing over.

He lowered his voice. “I don’t think we’re doing this right.”

Just behind them a few middle-aged men were examining the tractors’ big thick wheels, but none of them pretended to be joyriding on it.

“Our farm just went under,” Aiba insisted, posing like some teen idol on the ladder, pointing at nothing in particular and offering a too-serious idol gaze. Jun reluctantly took out his phone, taking another picture. Aiba’s normal expression returned, and he looked down with a wry smile. “We’re only here to remember the good old days of our beloved pear farm in Kochi.”

“Pears, huh?” Jun asked, holding out a hand to make sure Aiba didn’t trip and fall as he climbed back down.

Aiba’s hand in his was warm, his grip tight as he moved. “I love pears. Too bad we’re bankrupt now.”

A bankrupt pear farm? That was their cover? “Does Ninomiya-kun usually come up with the backstory when you two infiltrate enemy conventions?”

Aiba let him go, smiling. “Yep, he’s the creative one. We usually pretend we’re super spies preparing for an undercover mission, but uh…you seemed to have covered well with the fruit hat lady.”

“Can we get out of here? They might run us over with a tractor if they realize we’re not actually qualified to sit aboard, let alone operate heavy farming equipment.”

“What a killjoy you are, Matsujun,” Aiba teased. 

They departed the fruit farmer expo room and found another empty table. Aiba opened up his bag again and out came the avalanche of badges.

“I picked the last one,” Jun said. “What shall we do next?”

Aiba’s smile was just as powerful as it had been when they were teenagers. Warm, welcoming, and perhaps a little wicked. Jun swallowed nervously, still a bit disbelieving that in the course of an hour, maybe two, his entire perspective had changed. It really was way too easy to fall and fall fast for someone like Aiba Masaki. And the fifty pieces of paper tucked safely away in Jun’s own convention bag would serve as a helpful reminder of that.

Aiba moved forward, into Jun’s space. Usually such a thing would make him jump, but he stood his ground, Aiba’s fingers taking hold of the lanyard, slipping the fruit farmer badge from around his neck. He licked his lips, struggling to breathe as Aiba presented him with a new identity, this time a white badge with a blue lanyard stamped with the name of a toothpaste brand.

Aiba teasingly poked the badge where it now rested against Jun’s abdomen. “Have you been flossing regularly, Hamada-sensei?” 

—

Caries Remineralization Agents - Where We Are, Where We’re Going  
Sunday, 10:00 AM  
Byatt Blue (Floor L1)  
Speaker: Asai Tomomi, DDS

This session will discuss the early diagnosis of tooth demineralization and intervention with fluoride (including fluoride varnish and silver diamine fluoride), glass ionomer surface protectants, sealants, and minimally invasive products and procedures (including CPP-ACP paste, xylitol, and chlorhexidine). Risk assessment utilization in decision-making for restorative care will be discussed and related to recommendations made by the Japan Dental Association for restorative dentistry care in children.

—

If they thought they didn’t belong at the fruit farmer convention, then the Kansai Dental Society 143rd Annual Winter Symposium was even more of an awkward situation. At first they’d been successful, walking together into the Byatt Regency and taking an elevator down two levels to the convention rooms. 

Aiba was just as slick and quick-thinking on his feet as he’d always been on the basketball court. Jun watched his fast fingers snatch samples of floss, toothpaste, breath-freshening gum, and even magnets shaped like molars. Into the bag they all went, sometimes two freebies at one go with the excuse that Nino was too lazy to come to the dentist meeting and thus Aiba was grabbing one for him as well.

It should have struck Jun as a bit…irresponsible, impersonating someone he wasn’t. Attending a conference he hadn’t paid for and snagging the swag. But then again, nobody was being hurt by it. They weren’t taking anything that wasn’t being freely given away. The people at the trucking convention were mostly coming to their booth for the free chocolate, so did it really matter if some impersonator logistics professional approached their booth to take one? Jun wondered if Ninomiya was there right now, offering Sho a wink and a smile and shoving some Stay Alert, Stay Alive pamphlets into his bag just to get the chocolate. Metrics were still metrics, weren’t they?

It all seemed to be going okay until Jun lingered too long at one of the booths, trying to decide between a sample of bubble gum-flavored mouthwash and strawberry. He knew Shihori loved strawberry-flavored things, and he figured he owed his colleagues for putting up with his lovelorn self all weekend.

It was then that someone else approached, looking at Aiba’s badge. “Nakamura-sensei! From Kanagawa Dental University!” the young woman in enormous glasses cried, looking at Aiba like a god. Then again, Jun knew the feeling. But he suspected this wasn’t because Aiba was hot. “I read your recent paper, you know, in the _Japanese Dental Science Review_?”

“Oh?” Aiba asked, face turning bright red. “Thank you very much.”

The woman was more aggressive than she looked, her hand locking around Aiba’s wrist. “I was utterly fascinated by your research on morphological variations found in the maxillary lateral incisor. Do you have a moment? I’m a student, a student at Kansai Medical University…”

“A student…I…I love talking with students…” Aiba stammered, eyes looking to Jun for help. Unfortunately Jun knew nothing about morphological…whatevers.

“Nakamura-sensei,” Jun mumbled. “We have the symposium later.”

The woman gasped in happiness, still with a firm grip on Aiba’s sleeve. “Ah, the special session on endodontic excellence! I was planning to go to that. Perhaps I can walk with you to the ballroom?”

Jun’s lie had backfired instantly. He was not as good at this as Ninomiya likely was. Aiba instead chose that moment to panic, groaning and clutching his stomach.

“Nakamura-sensei?” the woman gasped, letting him go. “Are you alright?”

“Mmmm…I think it’s diarrhea. Yep, definitely diarrhea,” Aiba moaned. “Excuse me, won’t you?”

And then Aiba fled, leaving Jun there with the shocked dentistry student. She looked at Jun with an inquiring eye. But when her gaze dropped to the name on his badge, she didn’t seem as impressed.

“See you in the ballroom then,” she said dismissively, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and walking off in what Jun thought was a rather snobby fashion.

Apparently Hamada-sensei wasn’t a dental profession superstar, and Jun allowed himself to be miffed about this for maybe five seconds before realizing that he was still standing there like an idiot. He snagged the strawberry mouthwash with a quick “thanks very much!” to the bored salesman standing behind the table, shoving it in his bag as he hurried after Aiba and his fake diarrhea attack.

Aiba already had the badge off when Jun found him hiding (not very well) behind a large potted plant near the escalator.

“That was a bit scary,” Jun admitted.

“Yeah…maybe I shouldn’t pose as a medical professional.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Aiba scratched his head, shaking it in frustration. “Aaaah, what if someone suddenly had, I don’t know, a cavity and wanted my advice?”

Jun chuckled. “Then you tell them to get a filling.”

“At least Nino will be happy with all the stuff I got him.”

“You’re a good friend,” Jun said.

Aiba dug around in his bag, this time unearthing his own badge. Aiba Masaki, Zic Camera. He slipped it around his neck and then found an equivalent for Jun. He could now be Wada Mariko from Fujiwara Appliances.

“This is a woman’s badge,” Jun complained.

“So? I think the chances of you being a woman are just about as equal as you being a dentist or a fruit farmer, Matsujun.”

Jun sighed, putting the badge around his neck. He supposed Aiba was right on that account.

“I think you’ll like my convention better anyway,” Aiba said, linking arms with him. “Let’s go, Mariko-chan.”


	3. Chapter 3

Insure Your Irrigation Equipment, Ensure Your Future  
Saturday, 1:00 PM  
Garden Room C  
Speaker: Ikematsu Nanami, VP, AIG Insurance Farm Solutions

Did you know AIG offers coverage for your valuable irrigation machinery and equipment? In this talk, we’ll explore how Shikoku farmers can get covered depending on the needs of their operations. You never know when a natural disaster or debilitating accident will happen, but with full coverage from AIG, you’ll have peace of mind. 

—

Jun did find the HomeSmarts Show and Expo to be more interesting than all the others he’d visited put together. HomeSmarts had the largest amount of real estate in the convention center that weekend, and it was swarming with people, even on a late Sunday afternoon. Nobody here would likely notice or care that Jun was probably not named Mariko.

Jun realized quickly that his own apartment wasn’t very “smart.” He did think the dimmer switch he had in his living room was useful, but that was nothing compared to the array of items on display in the massive expo hall. Aiba tugged him along, showing off his favorites that he and Nino had checked out the last two days. Aiba actually had come to the convention to get work done, he and Nino deciding what to pursue more closely once they got back to the office.

There were fancy thermostats and light bulbs. Elaborate, color-soaked screens to install in cars and connect to a smartphone over wi-fi. Security cameras that shot in HD and motion-detector lights. Aiba brought him to a booth showcasing a new type of at-home robot that could be programmed to cook basic recipes.

“It’s not ready for the market yet,” Aiba explained as the robot, SuperChef 8000, stood at a mock-up kitchen counter stiffly peeling potatoes. Jun raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as bits of potato skin went flying around, smacking against a glass screen. In a real kitchen, SuperChef would be making a Super Mess.

“I don’t think I need a robot to peel potatoes.”

“He’s gonna make croquettes though.”

“I can make them myself. And without destroying my kitchen in the process,” Jun said.

Aiba gave him a light jab in the arm. “You’re no fun.”

“I’ll make them for you,” he continued, keeping his voice light. “If you want.”

Aiba was quiet for a moment. When Jun looked over, Aiba was blushing. “You’d really cook for me?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Aiba turned away, scratching at the back of his neck. “Well, then it’s a good thing we have each other’s phone numbers now, isn’t it?”

Jun grinned. This convention wasn’t just some dream. When he got back to Tokyo, Aiba would be there. And they could reconnect like two normal people. No more misunderstandings, no more World Cup-like gaps of time. Things weren’t as hopeless for Jun as he’d thought.

They spent over an hour walking through the convention hall, trying out various gadgets. He was very happy to pass on the opportunity to try a strange new contraption, the Xperience 4-D. But Aiba eagerly emptied his pockets, shoving items into Jun’s bag and having him hold on to his suit jacket. He was strapped into some seat, a virtual reality visor slipped over his head. Once the contraption was locked up, Jun watched in amusement as the thing flung Aiba around, simulating a roller coaster ride. It even turned upside down. Much as Jun liked roller coasters, he had a feeling he’d lose his lunch in a simulator.

His suspicions were proven correct when Aiba came stumbling out of the thing, smiling weakly and looking a little green. “That was…that was…”

“Not going to end up in Zic Camera stores?” Jun asked.

Aiba nodded. “I don’t think so.”

With Aiba a bit woozy, Jun held on to both of their bags, Aiba limply holding his jacket in his arms as they made their way through the convention hall. Jun could tell that the Xperience had really thrown Aiba around, and when they got to the end of a row, Jun pulled him aside, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Aiba shook his head. “Maybe I should eat something. That thing rattled my brain around in my head.”

They ended up back at the Byatt Regency, hiding in the back of the restaurant in case that dental student found them again. Even as they ate, Jun could see that Aiba was trying to tough it out and failing.

“I think I know why they made me sign a waiver,” Aiba joked, poking lethargically at the tonkatsu on his plate.

But Aiba refused to leave him, even when Jun encouraged him to go back to his room and nap. Instead Aiba wanted to know everything he didn’t already know about Jun. Not that there was much to tell, but Jun did his best to summarize, to fill in the blanks that came from not having seen one another in five years. He talked about work, friends, family. Instead of their plan to go check out the vacuum convention, Aiba sat back in his seat, listening and smiling and laughing as Jun spoke.

It was different from any other time they’d had together. There was no alcohol to loosen tongues, no sex as a fun distraction. Jun could simply be himself, and Aiba was simply himself. Aiba wasn’t the high school dream on top of a pedestal. He was a normal guy. Admittedly he had some odd interests when it came to attending work conferences, but he was single and just as despondent about it as Jun was. 

There was still a lot they didn’t know about each other, and one dinner wasn’t going to solve that, but they’d already found some common ground. And while he got the feeling they weren’t 100% compatible, for once Jun didn’t really seem to mind. 

Aiba insisted on paying for their dinner. “Then it feels like a real date,” Aiba admitted quietly. Jun had nothing to say to that, only looking down, smiling with his good fortune.

With Aiba still a bit woozy from the Xperience thing, Jun decided to be content with the incredible day they’d already shared. After all, there was still tomorrow to spend together.

They stood outside the restaurant. There were too many people around, Jun thought, but Aiba had been bold for as long as Jun had known him. He reached out, slipping his hand into Jun’s, twining their fingers together.

“I’m so glad I had the opportunity to apologize to you,” Aiba said.

“This has been one of the oddest days of my life,” Jun admitted. “Honestly, Aiba-san, every day I’ve spent with you has been odd.”

“Oh?”

Jun squeezed Aiba’s hand to reassure him. Sometimes he realized that his blunt comments could come across as rude. “It’s a good kind of odd, being around you. A perfect sort of odd.”

He slipped his hand away, not wanting anyone to stare at them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Matsujun. I’ll call you when I wake up. Definitely gotta sleep this off, get my brain back to normal.”

“I’ll see you then. Thanks for today.”

They parted with a lingering look, Jun’s heart racing. It was so tempting to follow Aiba, but even if Aiba didn’t have a headache from that awful machine, perhaps it was too soon to jump into something. Impulsive was Aiba’s thing, not really Jun’s.

But still, he was smiling when he took the elevator up to his room. He stripped down, stretching and having a shower. He still couldn’t believe everything that had happened.

Changing into a comfortable t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he sat on his bed, digging through his bag. He laughed, tugging out the tractor catalogs. He’d leave those to be recycled, offering a silent apology to the poor woman with the fruit hat. He managed to find the stack of 50 notes Aiba had written to him. He sorted through them again, glad he was alone in his room when he teared up at Aiba’s lengthy explanation and apology.

He eventually got to the bottom of the bag, confusion striking. He tugged out a gray keycard. Cosmos Hotel and Suites, the thing read. “Huh?” he said aloud, disturbing the silence of his hotel room.

And then he remembered. Before Aiba had gotten on that stupid ride, he’d dumped a lot of stuff with Jun to hold on to so nothing would fly out of his pockets. Jun thought Aiba had managed to take everything back - his wallet, his phone.

But not his keycard. 

So why hadn’t Aiba called him?

Typical Aiba Masaki forgetfulness, Jun realized with a sigh. If he and Aiba did end up dating after this, fingers crossed, then Jun would have to be very patient when it came to things like this. He took out his phone, happy that this time he could simply tap on Aiba’s name and make a call.

It went to voicemail. “Hello you’ve reached Aiba Masaki. If you leave me a message, I’ll call you back. Well, at some point. I’m pretty bad at checking my voicemail so…yeah. Thanks! Bye bye!”

Jun hung up, shaking his head in disbelief.

Aiba had probably gone to the front desk for a new keycard. These things happened. Or if Aiba didn’t want to get charged extra for losing it, he was probably crashing in Nino’s room. But Jun also knew Aiba didn’t always do the most probable thing.

A quick look at the clock revealed it was already after midnight. Not really caring that he was going out in a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, Jun dragged a brush through his damp hair, putting on his convention lanyard and taking both the keycard for his room and for Aiba’s hotel. 

He made the long walk, shivering a little without all the warm bodies swarming the hotel for the convention. There were still people at the Byatt’s bar, a few coming into the lobby after having a night on the town. The convention center rooms were all locked down for the night, but the pathway from the Byatt to the Cosmos was still wide open. It was chilly and a little scary walking through the passageway alone at night. He only passed one other person, a woman who gave Jun a bit of a funny look for being out in his pajamas. He offered no judgment, considering that she’d clearly come from someone else’s room, given the way she’d misbuttoned her blouse.

He went to the desk, setting down the keycard. It was a bit shady, lying to the person behind the counter, but they’d never give him Aiba’s information otherwise. And Jun had spent the entire day pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

“My keycard isn’t working,” he said calmly.

“I’m sorry about that, sir,” the man behind the counter said. “Your name?”

“Aiba. Aiba Masaki.”

“Just a moment please, Aiba-san. You’re here for the…”

“The SmartHome show. I’m in the Zic Camera room block.”

“Yes, on our third floor. 310,” the man said, and Jun hid his shock as best he could. He didn’t think he’d get this much information without having to lie some more. The security in this hotel was really lacking. The Byatt would never let some weirdo in pajamas get away with this without showing ID.

“Yes, 310. I don’t know why it stopped working. I got in earlier this afternoon.”

“You were at the electronics show. Sometimes there’s been issues with our cards after people play with some of those gadgets.”

“I see.”

The man handed over a new card. “Again, we apologize for the inconvenience, Aiba-san. Please have a good night.”

“Thank you.”

His plan was to slip the keycard under Aiba’s door along with a note teasingly chiding Aiba for being forgetful once again. His plan flew out the window when the elevator dinged on the third floor and he walked out, only to find a man slumped over with his back against one of the hotel room doors.

A man in a gray suit hugging a convention bag against his chest, snoring.

“What is wrong with you?” Jun muttered under his breath, approaching quietly and confirming almost instantly that instead of calling Jun about his keycard, instead of going to the desk for a new one, and instead of staying with Nino, Aiba had simply accepted that he’d been locked out and had chosen to sleep in his hallway instead. 

Jun crouched down, sighing. “Aiba-san.”

Nothing.

He rested a hand on Aiba’s shoulder. “Aiba-san, wake up.”

Aiba finally stirred, and Jun winced at the cracking noise Aiba’s neck made when he raised his head, blinking in confusion.

“Matsujun?”

Jun ruffled his hair. “You seem to be missing something.”

“I lost my keycard,” Aiba admitted, voice still heavy and muddled with sleep.

Jun produced the new card from the pocket of his pajama bottoms. “This keycard?”

Aiba woke a little bit more. “You found it!”

“You left it in my bag,” Jun whispered, not wanting to disturb other sleepers on the floor. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He helped Aiba to his feet, Jun opening the door and giving Aiba a push inside. It was a small room, just as Aiba had claimed. Nothing much more than a tiny bathroom, a single bed, and a desk. A tiny screen bolted to the wall apparently served as his TV. No wonder Nino and Aiba spent most of their time looking for freebies at other conventions. Zic Camera didn’t seem to go to a lot of trouble to provide them with nice accommodations.

Aiba headed for the bed but Jun stopped him, grabbing him by the arm. “Your suit will wrinkle. Don’t sleep in it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

Jun found that Aiba had left a t-shirt on top of his duffel bag. “Here, put this on.”

He stood by while Aiba slowly shrugged out of his suit, groaning in irritation both from being woken so suddenly and likely from having fallen asleep sitting on the floor. Since Aiba didn’t really seem fully coherent, Jun decided to behave himself, ignore his baser instincts as Aiba undressed. He simply took Aiba’s suit jacket, tie, and shirt, hanging them up in the small closet. He laid Aiba’s slacks over the chair at the desk, putting his belt on top.

Aiba looked much different, very relaxed in his well-worn, obviously well-loved t-shirt, which he was wearing over a childish-looking pair of orange trunks dotted with purple stars. Where the hell did he shop? Jun tried not to look too closely at the contents of those trunks, even though he hadn’t forgotten in all this time.

Aiba collapsed onto the mattress with a pleased little moan, and Jun tucked him in to the small bed. Aiba wasn’t much taller than Jun was, but his feet almost reached the edge of the mattress. It really was a pretty crappy room.

Jun sat down, the mattress creaking with his added weight. He stroked his fingers across Aiba’s forehead, brushing his fringe aside. His face was already fairly peaceful. He was the type of person to adapt quickly to things, unlike Jun.

“I’m going to leave the keycard on your desk. Don’t lose it, alright?”

“Yeah, Mom, I heard you,” Aiba grumbled, though not with any cruelty.

Jun smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning. Give me a call when you get up.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Hmm?”

Aiba slowly opened his eyes, looking at Jun with surprising seriousness. “One dumb day isn’t enough to really forgive me, is it?”

“Then give me more than one dumb day,” Jun reasoned with him, running his fingers down Aiba’s cheek, stroking along his jawline. “Give me a ton of dumb days.”

Aiba nodded. “I will. I want to.”

He leaned forward, thinking to leave a kiss on Aiba’s cheek. Aiba, not as tired as he seemed, intercepted him. Their lips met, warm but quick. Jun backed off first, still leaning down, still wary.

“Tomorrow then,” he whispered, already missing the softness of Aiba’s lips on his.

“Night.”

Jun moved off of the mattress, trying to breathe normally. He left the keycard exactly where he promised, closing Aiba’s door behind him. He laughed quietly as he walked back to the elevator with a spring in his step.

—

“Reel” Tips For Independent Charter Operations  
Monday, 9:30 AM  
Maple Room I, II, III  
Speaker: Ohno Satoshi, OhnoKato Tokyo Bay Tours

It might seem daunting to start your own charter boat business in today’s cutthroat marketplace. But with planning and patience, you too can achieve your dreams. The incomparable Ohno Satoshi, a nearly 20-year veteran of the industry, 17-year charter captain, and soon-to-be small screen star, describes his road to deep-sea charter success and offers tips for budding entrepreneurs. Breakfast provided at this sure-to-be-engaging session. (Invite only)

—

When his phone rang at half past eight that morning, he groaned, crawling over to the nightstand. Jun’s mood perked up considerably when he saw it was Aiba calling.

“Hey, it’s the Hallway Sleeper.”

“Afraid it’s not,” came the joking voice of Ninomiya Kazunari. “Ninomiya here calling from Aiba-san’s phone.”

Jun sat up, the sheets rustling beneath him. Unlike Aiba, the government had put Jun up in a room with a king-size bed. He had a feeling it was a clerical error. “Ninomiya-san, how are you?”

“Dandy. Our Aiba-san is in the shower.”

“Okay.”

“Have you guys been to TSURI-EXPO yet?”

The fishing trade show was getting started while all the other conferences slowly closed. Their expo had started the night before with conference sessions formally beginning today. “No, we didn’t poke our heads around in there. We were already pushing it in some of the other conventions. Thanks for uh…thanks for getting me into those.”

“Not a problem at all. It just so happens that I was wandering a bit last night, minding my own business, and I happened upon four invites to one of the special breakfasts. For the TSURI-EXPO, I mean. Aiba-san and I are going. You have a co-worker who likes free food?”

He had two of them, but he knew that Shihori was likely already in the expo center. She was the first one heading back to Tokyo that afternoon, so she’d taken the first shift. Which meant…

“I have a co-worker who likes free food. He’s not much of a rule breaker though.”

“According to the ticket, it’s all you can eat,” Ninomiya explained.

“I will call him right now. We’ll meet you there. Should I assume you have a way to get us in?”

“Oh, Matsumoto-san, do you even have to ask me that?”

He snorted. “What time is the breakfast?”

“9:30 in Maple Room 1, 2, and 3. It’s a big to-do. Come hungry.”

“Thanks,” he said, hanging up.

He caught Sho just in the nick of time - he’d been perusing the room service menu and had been planning to order in. He gave Sho the quickest rundown possible, about Aiba and all the badges and Ninomiya’s sneaky fingers and most importantly, the ballroom full of all-you-can-eat breakfast.

“You want to sneak in to this breakfast?” Sho was asking in disbelief. “We work for the government…”

“It’s not sneaking. We’ll have badges.”

“Stolen badges.”

“Found badges,” Jun said. “Found and, um, not yet returned.”

Sho sighed. “Someone probably paid for those tickets.”

“It’s all-you-can-eat, Sho-san.”

“Well…”

Sho arrived in 10 minutes, looking a bit nervous but looking more hungry. They headed for the elevator, and when the doors shut, Sho looked over at him.

“You look happier,” Sho said quietly.

“I am. Well…I don’t know what it all means yet but…”

“He makes you happy, it’s that simple.” Sho gave him a silly punch in the arm. “Go for it. At least you have his number now, right?”

He blushed. “It’s been a weird 24 hours.”

“I bet.”

He looked over, grinning. “Take off that logistics badge, Sho-san, you’d be a horrible spy.”

They met Nino and Aiba one floor up from the large Maple Room banquet hall where people were already streaming in for the special breakfast. Aiba was wearing his usual confident smile, and Jun tried not to act like a silly teenager with a crush. He was a silly adult with a crush, and he returned Aiba’s smile shyly. 

Ignoring the love fest happening in front of him, Ninomiya was all business. 

He shook hands with Jun, then introduced himself to Sho. “Matsumoto-san,” he said. “Sakurai-san. As of this moment, those men are dead.”

Sho raised an eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”

Ninomiya dug around in his bag, finding lanyards and badges. “I found some good ones. For you, Jun-kun.”

Jun accepted a badge for Yoshimoto Yuta from High Seas Fisheries. Sho was handed a badge for Tachikawa Yukie of Kobe Fish and Fleet.

“This is a woman’s name,” Sho complained. Aiba gave Jun a wicked smile.

Jun just gave Sho a pat on the back. “Just tap into your girl power. I’m sure you have some.”

Sho rolled his eyes, putting on the badge. “Whether I have girl power or not isn’t the problem here…”

Nino then distributed tickets, and the four of them took the escalator down. Sho stood closer than Jun thought was necessary, trying to cover his badge with the ticket, but his fear was rather cute. Was this what Aiba had felt yesterday, when Jun was a bundle of nerves following him into the fruit farmer convention or the dentistry meeting?

The pink lanyards were enough to help them blend in, and they handed their tickets to a woman at the door. It was a large room, not too different from the one where he and Sho had shared breakfast the other day. There was a stage up at the front with a podium. A video screen had been set up and was scrolling through a carousel of fish photos. Each photo featured a small fellow with a rather adorable grin. In each picture he was holding up his catch like a proud parent.

“I did some web searching,” Ninomiya informed them when they found the only table that still had four seats together, closer to the front than Jun would have liked. “Apparently this Ohno guy owns a fleet of charter boats. But that’s not all…”

Aiba took a seat between Nino and Jun, resting an arm on the back of each of their chairs. “That’s not all?”

“A guy like that, he’s become popular, it seems. He’s got a TV show coming up, what was it called? It’s gonna air on TV Tokyo at like, 3:00 in the morning. Fillet and Fry, I think.” Nino gestured to the screen of pictures. “Can you believe it? A guy who looks like him hosting a TV program.”

“Well, if it’s a fishing program, isn’t a fisherman the best option?” Sho wondered, already flagging down a woman coming by with a fresh pot of coffee.

“Look at him though!” Nino cried, the slideshow changing to a picture of a smiling Ohno holding a tuna almost as big as he was. “That little old man…”

Jun chuckled. He didn’t look old at all. “He looks nice to me.”

Aiba’s fingers stroked along the back of Jun’s neck, and he jumped in surprise, but none of the others seemed to notice. Jun looked over, saw the slightest hint of jealousy in Aiba’s expression.

“I mean, he’s alright,” Jun clarified. “I’m sure he’s good at…fishing.”

Nino leaned forward. “Gentlemen, would you like to make this interesting?”

“Nope,” Sho said immediately, adding some sugar to his coffee.

“Don’t mind him,” Jun said teasingly. “He’s a goody goody.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sho said in a lofty voice, eyes watching as various dishes were being brought in. It seemed all the tables would pass and share the massive plates of food. Jun supposed that was less disruptive than everyone going back to a buffet table while Ohno-san was delivering his presentation.

“Can’t we just eat, Nino?” Aiba asked.

Nino reached into his bag, pulling out a massive stack of little white tickets. He held one up for each of them to see. “This here is a raffle ticket to win a brand new TV from one of the sponsors of the convention Aiba-san and I are attending. 85 inches.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jun mumbled, even though winning it would be…kind of amazing.

Nino let them see the ticket even closer. “I’ve got 527 of these tickets that I’ve managed to gather the last few days through lots of hard work, and last night while I sat in my room enjoying the Overwatch World Championship…”

“The hell is that?” Sho butted in, but Nino kept right on talking.

“…I filled out all 527 of these suckers. While they all have my name and phone number and contact information, I am willing to give the prize to the man who takes a selfie with future television star Ohno Satoshi.”

“But they’re just raffle tickets,” Jun pointed out. “I presume they haven’t drawn the winner yet.”

Nino narrowed his eyes. “The drawing is at 11 AM, right after this breakfast ends. I’m giving you 527 opportunities to win a brand new TV.” He waved his left hand around decisively. “I got a cramp filling all these out, you know.”

“And you’d just give them away?” Aiba asked. “Don’t you want the TV?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Nino said. “Oh, did I forget to mention that you have to be wearing this in the photo with him?”

He dug around in his bag again, holding up a blue and yellow hat shaped like a fish. Two little yellow fins stuck out of the sides. Jun didn’t really want to know where Nino had swiped that from.

“But even if one of us does it, you still might not win the raffle. We’ll have made a fool of ourselves for nothing,” Jun protested.

Nino shrugged, shoving the 527 raffle tickets inside the fish hat and then stuffing it back in his bag. “You have the entire breakfast to make up your minds.”

They quieted down as more food was brought out, and soon Jun had enough on his plate to keep himself busy chewing for a long time. Despite Sho’s initial reservations about pretending to be someone he wasn’t, the free breakfast had seemed to win him over.

Beside him, Aiba was obviously distracted. He had his phone out, was scrolling through product specs for the TV Nino had mentioned. But was it enough to wear a silly, childish hat and try to force a selfie with a stranger? Jun wasn’t quite sure yet.

It was Ohno Satoshi who provided the biggest surprise that morning. He came out to a standing ovation, something that left Jun and the others sitting there, jaws dropped, forks clutched in their hands. Apparently the guy was the fishing world’s equivalent of a superstar, a major celebrity. 

He didn’t particularly look like one with his dark hair and round face. He seemed to be fairly humble, even as people chanted his name when he walked out on stage dressed like he was ready to hit the water in a pair of rubbery tan wader boots that went all the way up to his chest. He made squeaky noises as he walked back and forth across the stage, waving politely as people snapped pictures of him. 

When some of the people in attendance, mostly middle-aged men, shouted “Fish us! Fish us!” at Ohno, the man kindly obliged them, smiling and making a “reeling in” gesture over and over that made Nino drop his fork in astonishment.

“Is he giving them… _fan service_?” Sho whispered in Jun’s ear.

“Seems like it,” he replied.

It was five minutes of “Fish us!” and photo-taking and applause before Ohno in his fishing waders and bright blue OhnoKato Tokyo Bay Tours windbreaker was able to approach the podium and start his speech.

Nino shook his head. “I may have grossly miscalculated this man’s appeal.”

On paper, the session was supposed to be about starting your own charter boat business, but the man who’d introduced Ohno announced to the crowd that Ohno had also brought along with him a TSURI-EXPO exclusive - a screener of the first episode of his upcoming TV program, Fillet and Fry.

They all poked at their food, watching all the fishermen around them losing their minds for some reason as the video played. The first episode of Fillet and Fry, which had higher production values than Jun had anticipated, served to introduce Ohno Satoshi, fishing boat charter captain. Jun thought fishing programs were usually just long, boring shots of some guy sitting in a boat waiting to reel in “the big one.” 

But Fillet and Fry was one of the most bizarre reality show concepts Jun had ever seen. Ohno himself was a quiet guy, but they’d paired him with some obnoxious comedians. They went out in Ohno’s boat, and the idea was that whatever they caught that day was what they’d have to fry up and serve to their celebrity guest. In the first episode, the big guest was some washed-up actress who’d been caught selling her used panties on an auction site. She also received a startling amount of applause from the audience. 

While Ohno reeled in fish after fish, the dumb comedians managed to bring in an old rubber boot. Laughter ensued again, and Jun wondered if he’d fallen through a wormhole into an alternate dimension where the TSURI-EXPO Osaka was now Japan’s sole arbiter of what was considered entertainment. 

The episode closed with the comedians screaming and howling in (hopefully fake) agony as splatters of hot oil got on them while they tried dipping their boot in a deep fryer. The camera then cut to Ohno, who blinked a few times before leaning forward to deliver the most deadpan line Jun had ever heard.

“Please don’t fry this at home.”

The room erupted into cheers. 

Sho rested a hand on Jun’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta get this guy to do some PSAs for boat safety.”

“No shit,” Jun muttered, watching Ohno continue to “reel in” his fanboys. Then again, he doubted JTSB could afford such a…superstar. Not that Jun really wanted to win the TV that badly, but it was pretty obvious that Ohno would be completely swarmed by fans after the event. Nobody was getting a selfie with him.

Following the episode airing, a Q&A session got underway. The first six questions were from middle-aged fanboys asking Ohno to reel them in. He did so again and again and again. Jun rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his coffee.

It was then that Aiba leaned over, his breath warm against Jun’s ear. “Watch this.”

“Wait…” Jun hissed, “wait…Aiba-san…”

Nino, Jun, and Sho sat there, overwhelmed with a sudden tidal wave of secondhand embarrassment as Aiba proudly strolled up to the nearest microphone. He stood there, hands on his hips, and waited patiently as the person at the other microphone stand asked Ohno what he thought was the best bait for cold water bass.

“What is he doing?” Sho mumbled.

The spotlight turned, shining on Aiba, and all eyes in the room, including Ohno Satoshi’s, went to him. “Yes,” Ohno said quietly, pointing Aiba’s way. “Your question?”

Jun watched Aiba lean forward, gazing at Ohno with perfect seriousness. “Ohno-san, I’m a huge fan.”

“Ah, thank you very much.”

“And I was wondering if maybe we could take a selfie together? Right now?”

Ohno laughed, even as some people in the crowd booed Aiba for his selfishness. It was probably the fanboys who’d just asked for the “reel in” gesture - none of them had had the courage to ask for something more. Because none of them were trying to win an 85-inch TV.

“Let’s make it quick then, but for the rest of you, I’m doing a handshake event after this session…ah, please don’t boo him. He’s a fan, just like you.”

Well, no he wasn’t, but Aiba held out his hands and Nino flung the fish hat at him. Aiba slipped his phone out and jogged onto the stage, happily shoving the hat onto his head. That earned a few more boos, and Jun wanted to slink out of his seat and melt into a puddle under the table, just so he didn’t have to witness Aiba giving his all in order to win Nino’s stupid raffle tickets.

This was the guy he liked so much, huh? 

Beside him Sho was laughing, but Jun couldn’t bear to watch as Ohno and Aiba took a photo together on the stage. Soon enough Aiba was back, and people seemed to be clapping that Ohno was moving on to answering more serious questions. 

As soon as Aiba sat down, Nino yanked the hat off of him, grumbling under his breath as he shoved the 527 tickets into it. “That was a masterclass in super spy subterfuge, and I fucking hate you for thinking of it before me,” Nino complained.

Aiba merely patted his friend on the shoulder, taking the tickets out and putting them in his bag. “I’ll let you come watch the TV anytime.”

Jun focused intently on drinking his coffee, and mercifully, the Q&A session came to a close. By that point, Aiba’s egregious fan behavior had mostly been forgotten and everyone was cheering for Ohno to provide them fan service of their own. Jun was fairly certain he’d never understand it.

They exited the banquet hall, Sho snagging one last croissant and munching on it as the four of them gathered together outside. Aiba passed around his phone, and they all laughed at the picture of Ohno and Aiba smiling together as though they were the best of friends. God, they were all terrible people, weren’t they? 

“I’m catching a train at 12:00,” Nino said, the fish hat now perched a bit lopsided on his head. “If they call me about the TV, I’ll let you know. You crafty motherfucker. See you in the office tomorrow.”

“See you,” Aiba said, chuckling, and they all said their goodbyes to Nino.

Sho then looked between him and Aiba. “I’m going to the booth. Shihori-chan and I will pack up, and I’ll take the leftover pamphlets back with me. I’ve got the 2:00 train.”

Jun shook his head. “No, I can help you…”

Sho ignored him, holding out a hand. Aiba, a bit surprised, reached forward and shook it.

“I’ve heard a lot about you this weekend, Aiba-san. Some good…some…not so good.”

Aiba blushed. “I’m going to do my best to fix that, Sakurai-san.”

Sho smiled. “That was certainly one of the oddest breakfasts I’ve ever attended. I very much hope you win the TV.”

“I hope so, too,” Aiba said, turning even redder. “I can’t believe I got up on that stage with him. By the way, you should all know that Ohno-san smells very nice. And he patted my back so gently. I might be falling in love…”

Sho laughed. “He seems to have that effect on people, huh? Maybe I’ll tune in to his show. It was very weird. But anyhow…”

Sho then leaned forward, holding onto Aiba’s shoulder and whispering something in his ear. Jun stood there, arms crossed, annoyed and confused.

“Ah,” Aiba said. “Yeah, I know. I know.”

“See that you do, alright? It was nice to meet you,” Sho said before backing off, giving Jun a rather neutral look. “Matsumoto-kun, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Thanks for all your hard work this weekend.”

“Thanks for your hard work,” Jun said, utterly baffled, inclining his head. What the hell had Sho said to Aiba?

In seconds, Sho was leaving them behind. They stood there, side by side, watching other fishing fans file out of the banquet hall, many of them speed-walking in the direction of Ohno Satoshi’s fan event.

“What did he say to you?” Jun asked, nervous.

“Nothing you need to know,” Aiba said, putting his nose in the air.

Jun, who hated being out of the loop on anything, pouted. “Sure.”

Aiba wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing tight, not seeming to care if anyone saw. “Matsujun, don’t be such a baby. Your boss is a nice guy.”

“Sho-san is _not_ my boss. He is my senpai at work but I don’t…”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Aiba said, rubbing his arm affectionately. “He said something that I should have done ages ago.”

Oh god, what the hell did Sho say?

Aiba leaned over, quickly pressing a kiss to Jun’s cheek.

“He told me I should take good care of you,” Aiba spoke softly, even with the convention center bustling around them. His voice was more serious than Jun had ever heard it. “I know it’s only day 2 for us, now that we’ve cleared up everything. But I’d really like for it to be day 2 of many, many more. That is, if you’d like to go out with me.”

Jun looked over, saw the nervous hope in Aiba’s gentle brown eyes.

“I’d like that too,” he mumbled, feeling his ears start to burn in embarrassment. It was a high school-level confession, true, but what was so bad about that?

“And not just because I might be the winner of an 85-inch TV?”

“Aiba-san, I liked you long before I knew you might be the winner of an 85-inch TV.”

Aiba nodded, smiling sweetly. “Now I know that I just asked you out but…”

Jun was on the same page. “I don’t have to leave for Shin-Osaka until quarter to 5:00.”

“Ah sorry, but I have to leave at 1:00.”

It was 11:00 AM now.

“Go check out, bring your stuff with you.” Jun took a breath, pushed forward. “I’m in room 1206.”

Aiba smiled. “1206. Got it.”

—

**TSURI-EXPO OSAKA 2016 : SPECIAL TICKET EVENT**

SHIMANO LURES / GAMAKATSU LUXXE LINE RODS PROUDLY PRESENT:  
Ohno Satoshi  
OhnoKato Tokyo Bay Tours  
Monday, 11:15 AM  
Concourse A

Handshake Event : Admit One

Be sure and watch “Fillet And Fry” starting this January on TV Tokyo!

—

Jun had thankfully come to Osaka prepared, but only because he’d expected to at least try and have casual sex with somebody that weekend. He supposed what he and Aiba were about to do was still pretty…casual. After all, Aiba had only just asked him out officially. And they only had about an hour. 

But Jun knew, he simply knew, that this was far from casual. He stood there, towel wrapped around his waist from a quick shower, standing next to the bed and reading the notes from Aiba again. The notes that reassured him that even if he and Aiba had taken the long way round to get here, they’d figure it out somehow.

He read two of the notes again, the thin paper trembling a bit in his fingers.

_(35) I was in a weird place, but the fact that you made me forget it, even for a little while, meant more than I realized. You made me feel wanted again, worthwhile again. You are good in bed, don’t you ever doubt that for a second (honestly!!!!!!!!!)_

_(36) Is it weird if I say again that you are hot?? You really are hot!!!_

He grinned, nervous but hopeful. He hoped that Jun at 33 had even more to offer than Jun at 28.

There was a knock at the door and he jumped, hurriedly stuffing Aiba’s notes back in his bag. He didn’t need to kill the mood with sentimental squishy feelings. No, Jun knew exactly what he wanted.

A look through the peephole revealed Aiba Masaki standing in the hall, wheeled suitcase in tow, a wardrobe bag flung over his shoulder, and his body encased perfectly in a black leather jacket and tight, ripped jeans.

Fucking hell.

He unlocked the door, watching Aiba’s eyes bulge at the sight of him. “Matsujun, have you been working out?”

“It’s been a long five years,” he said, trying not to drool at the equally tempting sight before him.

The tension hung in the air for just a moment, Aiba hesitating in his doorway. And then Jun did only what came most naturally in that moment. 

Ohno Satoshi’s “reel in” gesture.

Aiba started to laugh, shaking his head and tugging his suitcase into Jun’s room. Jun put the “Do Not Disturb” sign out and closed the door, twisting both locks. By the time he turned, Aiba had already flung his wardrobe bag onto the chair, kicked off his shoes, fingers hurrying to the zipper of his jacket.

“No, no, no. Slower this time.”

Aiba looked at him in thinly-veiled irritation. “We have like, an hour.”

Jun moved over to him, watching as Aiba’s eyes took him in. It was oddly poetic. Jun had started a completely different workout routine several years back, right after the incident at the 10-year reunion. Feeling unattractive, assuming he was a terrible lay, he’d put on muscle, bulking up his upper body a bit. He wasn’t that scrawny kid sitting in the basketball stands now. But Aiba was only just finding that out today.

Hair slicked back from the shower, he approached with a wicked grin, batting Aiba’s hands away from the zipper of the jacket. “We’ll fuck quick, but I’ll undress you slow.”

Aiba’s mouth dropped open. When he finally managed to speak, it was all in a sudden rush.

“Matsujun, guess what, I didn’t win the TV. Nino called when I was at the checkout counter. 527 entries and I humiliated myself and poor Ohno-san will never even know I was lying about being his fan although I kind of am his fan now, he was so nice, but after all that I didn’t even win the TV!”

Jun blinked, fingers paused on the zipper. “Why…why would you say that…why would you say any of that right now?”

Aiba chuckled, reddening. “I…I never thought I’d hear such a line come out of your mouth, I guess I panicked.”

“You don’t like lines like that?” Jun mumbled.

“I do like them,” Aiba admitted. “It was just…unexpected. From you.”

“I guess you’ll just have to get used to me.”

With that, he slowly tugged the zipper down. With a bit of help, Aiba let the jacket drop. Then they were kissing, Aiba’s hands slipping around him, pulling him close. He tasted like bubble gum mouthwash, which Jun would decide to have an opinion on later because right now kissing Aiba was more important.

In between kisses, Jun brought his hands down, undoing the buckle on Aiba’s belt, yanking a little aggressively, earning a pleased gasp in reply. The belt hit the floor next. His fingers went to Aiba’s jeans next, and even though they fit him perfectly, reminding Jun that Aiba had long legs for days and days, they simply had to go.

By now Aiba had his tongue in Jun’s mouth, spreading the not-that-great-but-I’ll-have-an-opinion-later mouthwash taste along, but it was okay. It was okay because he wanted this and Aiba clearly wanted this, and the clock was ticking. They had to break apart so Aiba could sit down, let Jun pull the torn-up jeans off of him. He was in another questionable pair of boxer briefs, but the hideous color of the fabric didn’t matter when Jun saw the hard outline of Aiba’s growing erection inside them.

He leaned forward again, pressing soft, teasing kisses along Aiba’s jaw, down his neck, fingers disappearing up and into Aiba’s t-shirt. He’d been softer here last time, but if Jun had been working out the last few years, so had Aiba. He was firm and hot, Aiba was so hot with the wanting of him. It was real, and Jun hadn’t doubted it, couldn’t have doubted it after the last 24 hours, but getting confirmation that Aiba wanted him still felt fucking great.

Aiba moaned, his hands on Jun’s face, slipping back to tangle in his hair, bringing their mouths back together. Jun wasn’t sure when his towel fell away, but as soon as Aiba started to rut against him, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He’d wanted to go a little slower, if only because he wasn’t sure when they might meet again. But maybe Jun had to learn to be a little more impulsive, just like Aiba.

He gave Aiba a push, hard enough to send him back onto the mattress. Aiba scooted a little until he was fully on the bed, letting Jun tease his fingers down to the waistband of his underwear, sliding them down his long legs. He leaned back on his elbows, looking down at Jun as he got onto the bed, situating himself between Aiba’s legs.

“What do you want to do?” Aiba asked, his hair having fallen in his eyes a bit, his chest rising and falling, unashamed as his cock stood at attention, waiting for Jun to decide. “And…and don’t be afraid to ask for what you really want. I owe you that much after what I did to you last time.”

Jun slowly kissed his way up Aiba’s leg, past his knee, watching him tremble as his mouth moved higher, up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

“What you did to me last time…” Jun murmured against Aiba’s warm skin, “you couldn’t figure out where you wanted to fuck me so we fucked in your bathroom. We fucked against a desk. And then you let me sit on your lap. It was kind of…unnecessarily complicated.”

“I agree,” Aiba admitted, sucking in his lower lip a bit, biting down with his perfect teeth as Jun’s kisses went even higher. The hem of his thin gray t-shirt lay just above his navel, grazing his sun-kissed skin. That large birthmark of his was still hiding.

“Take your shirt off, let me see all of you.”

Aiba did as ordered, and now they were both naked. Jun moved forward, his own erection brushing lightly against Aiba’s as he leaned over to press a kiss to that brown patch of skin, just as unique as the rest of him. 

“Guys usually don’t like it. They think it’s kind of ugly,” Aiba murmured.

“I love it.”

“Good. I remember that you did.” Aiba smiled. “Well, have you decided?”

Jun nodded. Pressing one more long, lingering kiss to Aiba’s shoulder, he moved back down. Aiba groaned as Jun took his erection in hand, giving it a few firm strokes.

“We’ve had communication problems, Aiba-san, as you well know. So it’s best I be direct, right?”

“Oh god, don’t stop,” Aiba begged, eyes closing, his body trembling, desperate to arch up and feel the friction of Jun’s hand more fully.

“So I will tell you, directly, that first I’d like you to come in my mouth. And then I’m going to fuck you. Right here. Not in the bathroom, not over there, and not over there.” Jun gave Aiba’s cock another tight stroke. “Right here.”

Aiba’s head fell back a bit, his elbows shaking as he continued to try and keep himself upright. “That sounds perfect.”

Aiba was truly appreciative, making Jun swell a bit with pride once he had his cock deep in his mouth, taking as much of him as he could manage. He wasn’t quiet in his affection either, moaning, gasping Jun’s name, his voice getting hungrier, needier, each sound a straight shot of heady encouragement to Jun’s own cock.

“Jun…oh fuck, Jun…”

They had about thirty-five minutes left on the clock once Jun finished swallowing Aiba’s hot release. He looked up, grinning at Aiba lying there, totally blissful. It wouldn’t be easy, Jun knew, convincing Aiba later that he had to leave or he’d miss his train.

Aiba eventually came around, panting and eager again as soon as Jun had lube out, was doing his best to prepare him, pressing soft kisses to Aiba’s knee as he gently eased a finger in and out of him. Jun had a feeling that once he was inside of Aiba that he wouldn’t last very long. Aiba’s noisy encouragements would put him over the edge quickly, and he didn’t much care.

The minutes ticked by and eventually Aiba was begging, begging in a way Jun couldn’t have imagined him being capable of. The sweet, friendly Aiba Masaki that Jun had wanted for half his life was at his complete and total mercy, disheveled, body beaded with sweat, sprawled out on a hotel mattress before him, two of Jun’s fingers in his ass. “I need your cock,” Aiba was saying, voice scratchy, heavy. Desperate. “Jun, I need you.”

Aiba couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could Jun.

He bit the condom wrapper open, rolling it onto himself. He pressed another kiss to Aiba’s birthmark, another to Aiba’s mouth. “Please,” Aiba mumbled against his lips. “Please.”

He went as slow as he could manage, feeling Aiba’s body stiffen a bit with the initial intrusion, but with a few slow, easy strokes, he quickly relaxed. They found a position that was comfortable, Jun on top, Aiba wrapping a leg around him, keeping him as close as they could manage. 

“I can’t believe I have to get on a train and leave you,” Aiba mumbled.

Jun kissed him, running a hand through the thin strands of Aiba’s hair. “What are you doing tonight? I’ll get to my place around 9:30…”

Aiba wasn’t able to answer right away, their bodies having an altogether separate conversation. 

“Maybe…” Aiba eventually managed to say, “maybe tomorrow night would be better…”

“I have to wait a full day and a half to do this again?” Jun complained teasingly, shutting his eyes, trying not to go too fast.

“It’ll get you through the work day tomorrow, won’t it? Knowing the next time you see me we can do this again. Besides, wouldn’t you rather I take you out for dinner first? I wanna be a good boyfriend…”

Jun stopped moving, exhaling in surprise. Boyfriend, always a loaded term. When he looked down, he could see a smile on Aiba’s face, nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“Too soon?” Aiba asked, reaching a hand up, cupping Jun’s face.

Jun shook his head, laughing. “I think our entire timeline is unconventional. But maybe that’s why we work. Now. Let’s both shut the fuck up and do this the right way.”

Aiba laughed, too, and Jun could feel it, all the way to his bones. They belonged like this. They really did belong like this. Boyfriend…Jun really liked the idea of Aiba being his boyfriend.

He leaned in for another heated kiss, fucking Aiba senseless, happy that this time he’d at least get to leave wearing the right pair of pants.

—

Byatt Regency Osaka-Convention Center  
1-11-13 Nanko-Kita, Suminoe-ku, Osaka, 559-0034

_(51) Just so there’s no questions or doubt!!!!! Jun. You’re perfect._


End file.
